Cyrus (Sundance Review)

Unless you’ve been living under a rock (or just watching mainstream fare) for the past five years than name “Duplass” probably sounds familiar. Mark and Jay Duplass have spent the last half a decade directing and acting in high-quality films with rather low budgets. Involved in the mumblecore movement, their films The Puffy Chair (2005) and Baghead (2008) were shot on handheld digital cameras and featured non-actors who improvised most of their dialogue. Word quickly spread that the Duplass Brothers were two filmmakers to watch. Mark’s leading role in Lynn Shelton’s Humpday, which won a Special Jury Prize at Sundance, didn’t hurt their cause either. When word was released that The Duplass Brothers were making a film with John C. Riley and Jonah Hill, both of whom have a history in mainstream comedies such as Talladega Nights: The Story of Ricky Bobby and Superbad, respectively, the question as to whether the indie filmmakers would stay true to their low-budget aesthetic or would they transform their style into something mainstream audiences were used to seeing?

Cyrus tells the story of a man named John who’s still struggling with his 7-year divorce to Jamie (Catherine Keener) who recently announced that she’s getting remarried. And while she doesn’t want to be with John anymore, she does want him to be happy. So she forces him to put on pants (a chore for any depressed divorcee) and drags him to a party. There, he discovers Vodka and Red Bull, champions The Human League, and meets a beautiful 40-something named Molly (Marisa Tomei). Things heat up between John and Molly, as things often do in movies like this, and just as John’s world starts to look a little less bleak, Cyrus (Jonah Hill) enters the picture.

There’s nothing that’ll cramp a man’s style a 22-year-old kid still living at home. That’s exactly what John finds himself up against. Cyrus is a seemingly mature product of a broken home whose bond with his mother is not to be tested. As John tries to move things forward with Molly it becomes increasingly aware to John (and, of course, not to Molly who believes John’s imagining things, as characters often do in movies like these) that there are going to be problems getting past her kin.

So, with a mainstream premise, mainstream actors, and a mainstream budget (as least compared to their previous work), have the Duplass brothers created a “mainstream movie?” Are there any signs of the style, humor, and charm that made The Puffy Chair and Baghead must-see films for Indy Cine lovers? The answer to both questions is “yes.” They’ve done both. Each and every performance is wonderful. The comedy is spot-on. Even the handheld cinema-verite style is intact. As if by magic, the two writers/directors have done what so many independent filmmakers before them have tried to do: they’ve crossed over while maintaining exactly what made them unique. Wherever Mark and Jay are right now, be sure that they’re having their cake and eating it too, maybe literally.

While Cyrus has a lot of great aspects worth noting, one technique that’s sure to be “borrowed” for years to come is its voiceover/montage work. John and Molly fall in love on camera. They laugh, they cuddle, and they say all of the sappy things people say to one another when love happens to them. But instead of having to watch the actors declare these cheesy lines to one another (as audiences usually have to do when watching movies like this) the lucky viewers are treated to an engaging series of shots with overlying dialogue that’s much more effective than clichéd “close-up; overdramatic line delivery; reaction shot” formula. This technique is just one part of the most refreshing romantic comedy in years. And that’s exactly what Cyrus is, refreshing.

Directed by: Mark and Jay Duplass
Written by: Mark and Jay Duplass
Starring: John C. Reilly, Marisa Tomei, Jonah Hill, Catherine Keener
U.S.A., 92 min.

The Wrestler

Sorry Planet B-Boy, you've been bumped to Number Two. Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler is my favorite film of 2008. Caught a screening last night and despite all of the hype, I wasn't even slightly disappointed. Believe what you hear, it's that good. It's so much more than "Mickey Rourke's Comeback Movie." If a local theater is cool enough to pick this up, thank them by paying the seven bucks and maybe a couple more for Red Vines or whatever sugary/salty/liquid snacks you like best.

Before a real-life friend calls me out on this, I have a confession to make. I love pro wrestling. I did in high school, anyway. Backyard wrestling too. That being said, I still have all my own teeth, literacy is a skill I possess, and NASCAR's appeal has yet to work its charms on me. And even with all of spandex, chair shots, and predetermined winners, wrasslin' happens to be something I know quite a bit about.

Besides the impressive squared-circle scenes, the film captures life outside of the ring just as precisely. Rourke plays Randy "The Ram" Robinson (brought to you by the letter "R"), a washed-up has-been with a broken body and a van that doubles as a bedroom when he can't pay the bills.

There's already been so many parallels made between the actor and the character he's playing. I'll toss in my two cents and agree with those comparisons. He used to be a pro boxer with a laundry list of concussions and broken bones. He stopped acting and fell out of the limelight with plenty of people praying for his return. And I'm sure there were plenty of nights where Rourke slept in his car.

It's incredible that the role wasn't written for him specifically. Nic "Bangcock Dangerous" Cage was originally attached to star which, in my opinion, would have drastically hurt the film in ways that only repeated viewings of Con Air could explain.

Go see The Wrestler, it's the best film of the year.
Even if you don't like wrestling, go see The Wrestler.
Even if you only see it for all the Marisa Tomei boobage...
I've said too much.
Go see The Wrestler.