This Is Where I Leave You assembles some of the best comedic talent available to talk about poop, masturbation, Jane Fonda’s breasts, and that old reliable laugh-getter, penis size.
And when not dealing with such weighty matters, the film turns maudlin and discusses such fun fare as loss, regret and missed opportunities.
As happens too frequently, most of the funny bits from Leave You are in the overexposed previews. Once director Shawn Levy departs from the sure-fire laughs supplied by Jonathan Tropper’s script from his own novel, the laughs die out, replaced by the machinations and whining of a family that isn’t exactly grieving.
The uneven mixture of pathos and comedy belies its roots as a novel, as director Levy struggles to balance the unwieldy story lines that probably earned more fleshing out in the novel.
Here, Levy works in awkward shorthand with characters who have tangled histories. Everyone in the film seems to have had a relationship at some point with everyone else. Thereby, they can talk with each other with familiarity even if viewers are left a step behind.
Jason Bateman brings his monotonous deadpan to the role of the lead depressive, Judd Altman, who discovers his wife in bed with his boss about the same time his father dies. Judd’s smothering mother, Hillary (Jane Fonda, whose much commented-upon breasts also deserve a separate screen credit), calls her three sons and one daughter home to adhere to their father’s wishes to remain together for a week.
This forced reunion follows the formula laid down by numerous similar movie plots: the revival of old grudges, relationships, jealousies, loves and hates. Naturally, Judd quickly and seamlessly hooks up with former flame Penny (Rose Byrne), leaving little doubt as to where that coupling will lead.
Judd’s sister, Wendy (Tina Fey), has a bad marriage and still pines for her childhood sweetheart (Timothy Olyphant). Phillip (Adam Driver) brings his girlfriend (Connie Britton) along and still acts like an immature jerk. Paul (Corey Stoll) married Judd’s old girlfriend (Kathryn Hahn), but he’s still stuffy and humorless.
When the feeble attempts at comedy play out, the film revels in its pseudo-philosophizing, with various characters comforting one another and contributing inane advice complemented by a treacly piano score. Not much unexpected takes place until a big surprise ending that is gratuitous and little more than a desperate act to salvage something from this fiasco.
MOVIE RATING
This Is Where I Leave You
**
Rated R, 103 minutes.
Opens Friday.
