Seven years have come and gone since Alexander Payne's last feature, the instantly quotable and addictive Sideways, graced movie theaters to much acclaim and critical commendations, and now here we have his new midlife crisis tragicom, The Descendants. It was not worth the wait. With a sluggish, meandering pace and schmaltzy, claptrap plotting, Payne's return to filmmaking is a celebration of the humanitarianism of the rich and of the exotic but questionably used Hawaiian islands. A vacation hot spot where its residents claim to be hardworking and noble (the film's best line comes from George Clooney's character, Matt, early on: "I gave my kids just enough to do something but not enough to do nothing"), the film uses its vivacious mise en scene for little more than sweet eye candy. The film takes comfort in easy cliches and odd characterizations. Payne's clumsy shifts in tone, for example, put an awkward spin on scenes that should be if not emotionally rewarding then personally enriching, i.e. the bizarre scene where a teenage boy mocks an old woman's senility, and a few moments involving actress Judy Greer ("the kiss" scene and the obvious, performance overdrive on display in her final scene of hysterics). Payne often handles his characters like sitcom drop-outs; if it doesn't work on set, direct it instead as if the dim characterization is the film's point. Take for instance the inclusion of the aforementioned Sid, a surfer dude who is obnoxiously dropped into the story for comic relief. Or is he? Late in the film, we find out about his own heartbreaking past family experiences and we roll our eyes at Clooney's character's acceptance. In Payne's screenplay, characters have backstories that must only be revealed when it is dramatically necessary.
Without giving away too much, The Descendants' middle portion plays like an oddball caper, with Matt and his eldest daughter playing Google-equipped detectives. What they plan to do when they find their man is anybody's guess. Sure, Payne has them declare that they just want to harmlessly confront him, but with all the trouble they go through to have their face-to-face encounter, kidnapping or murder seems more likely. Going back and forth over this adulterer confrontation, the film promises a big payoff that is ultimately an unsatisfying afterthought, with everything turning out civil, tidy, and convenient.
The inclusion of a scene in a bar where Beau Bridges' character has to explain everything is only an attempt to overcomplicate the stupefyingly simple. It's a front. As The Village Voice's J. Hoberman sums up the film's subplot, "The two narrative strands entwine when Matt discovers that his wife’s lover, a glad-handing realtor, is actually vacationing with his wife and kids adjacent to the Edenic spot where he will be meeting with his clan, most memorably his dissolute cousin, to finalize the disposition of their legacy. Cosmic coincidence or crafty plot contrivance?"
Why not have the character responsible for Matt's wife's death be the one conducting the affair? This would have moved things right along, but alas, he is only brought in to show off his distinct haircut, muscles, and innate social skills. Or maybe the youngest daughter's friend who shows up for one scene in the hospital dressed like a twenty year old diva (proclaiming that she wants to hit up the clubs?) would have made a more welcome culprit. She's certainly the most suspicious.
Payne never misses a chance to be a faux artsy provocateur, even at the expensive of his film's logic. There's a shot of Matt's eldest daughter crying underwater in the family pool — she had just been dealt some heavy news about her mother's condition. And yet Payne is reaching for an impact that feels more manipulative than organic; the scene feels built around this one shot of the daughter underwater, and it proves distracting. He even gives Matt a voiceover narration in the film's first half which also seems dropped on us out of mere necessity. When we get to a quiet, introspective close-up of Matt's face in a boardroom meeting with his cousins, the narration, noting Matt's palpable concern with his wife's critical condition, makes us feel as if we're learning something deep and new. But are we? Or is the narration being used as a distraction to give us a close-up signifying doubt and built up desperation? Why clutter your true intentions with needless effects?
The Descendants hints at but never follows through with the economic and ethnographic conditions under the surface of its narrative. Matt's big decision to make (that the film builds up) will affect many native residents of the state, and we get the sense that Matt is equally favored and despised by this group. Nothing comes of it. Ironically, Matt's final decision seems to prove that forgiveness can be a tough thing to partake in and that he's not yet ready for the challenge. The film's first two-thirds told us otherwise. Even if Payne isn't much of a visualist — he seems to be attempting to prove these claims wrong with this current feature, only making his shortcomings more obvious — he has never written this shoddily before.
Anyone who has ever tried to make short, DIY films with his buddies will find much to appreciate here, perhaps the most memorable being the character of Charles, the strict director that always aims higher than his budget allows. A horror influenced film geek (he has posters of Halloween and Dawn of the Dead hanging up in his room, and his zombie film's central location is cleverly titled Romero Chemicals), Charles is energetic and at times, a bully. He's got the spirit. If these traits don't prove it, the screenplay later reveals that he had "a thing" for his slender female lead. See, he's a real director. Whenever an opportunity, horrible or otherwise, shines in the distance — say, that of a train ferociously roaring past the station, or the chance to film intimidating secret state troopers in blue bureaus, thus adding to his project's authenticity — Charles takes it. And if you can't get his dailies developed in twenty-four hours, stand back.
Super 8's main character, Joe, an avid fan of makeup expert and recent Oscar recipient Dick Smith, is recently getting over the unexpected death of his mother. Like Charles, he is also infatuated with the lead girl, played by Elle Fanning, and his ties with her (and her father) give the film its weight. Both would-be lovers are void of mothers and are at constant disagreement with their fathers. On the parental side, their dads want to connect with their offspring, but can't. Like The Descendants, there is bitterness over the accidental death of a wife, but here, our cop dad learns to forgive because of the unmalicious (although no less tragic) nature of the event. No one here is dumb for the sake of being dumb.
All life comes from memories and all memories are best retained captured on film. Remembering his mom with the aid of old 8MM reels of the family, Joe relies on the invention of film to reconnect. A therapy session with the analog, Joe is closest to his past while in the comfort of his own room and watching movies. An 1970s raised cinephile in a nutshell? Later, he even uses it to learn about a mistreated alien's past hurdles.
About that alien: hidden for most of the film, the creature with psychic abilities and a sensitive touch is an obvious place for detractors' criticism. Waging war against adults and transcendentally creating ties with the kids, its eyes literally open wide when he is slime-to-face with our hero. Joe and the creature each need something from one another, whether it be a coveted locket to serve as the final piece of a spaceship, or the ability to move forward in life living compliantly under dad's roof. Shown primarily in dimly lit shots, the creature is a useful if standard piece of CGI, but it serves its purpose. After all, Super 8 is primarily about a boy getting over the loss of his mother with the help of some extraterrestrial forces.
And if there's one film's end credits to stick around for, it's this one. You can't help but smile a little bit.
The Descendants: Not Recommended Super 8: Highly Recommended
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