Film review: Away We Go

Published on Thursday 17 September 2009 18:55

AWAY WE GO (15) ** DIRECTED BY: SAM MENDES STARRING: JOHN KRASINSKI, MAYA RUDOLPH, MAGGIE GYLLENHAAL, ALLISON JANNEY

AFTER charting the implosion of a marriage amid the stifling sterility of the American suburbs in Revolutionary Road, Sam Mendes lights out for the territories with Away We Go , an unbearably precious road movie that clearly wants to be – as one character puts it – a bit "Huck Finn-y" but comes across a little more Zach Braff-y. It's the kind of movie that wallows in winsomeness, kooky characters and the overbearing use of Nick Drake-style songs – courtesy of Scottish singer-songwriter Alexi Murdoch (presumably Belle and Sebastian were busy) – on the soundtrack. Unfortunately, unlike films such as Braff's Garden State, Mendes's usual clinical touch ensures that even while he embraces all the clichs of this particular subgenre of generational angst cinema, you never feel anything for the protagonists – a listless thirtysomething couple searching for a place to call home ahead of having their first child.

That's a problem, because Mendes presents them with an air of smug self-satisfaction that neither John Krasinski nor Maya Rudolph manage to break through. They play Burt and Verona, a resolutely unmarried couple who are heading towards their mid-thirties yet spend a lot of time fretting over whether or not they're "f***-ups" thanks to the dodgy wiring in their house and the piece of cardboard they've used to patch up a long-broken window. Given that these things seems to be the extent of their woes, it's hardly surprising that when Burt's unbearable parents (Jeff Daniels and Catherine O'Hara) announce they will be moving to Antwerp before the arrival their first grandchild, they freak out at suddenly having no support network should having a baby prove to be something like hard work.

As both have hazily defined careers that don't require them to live in a specific place, they conclude that they need to find a place to lay some roots so they can feel like proper grown-ups, so they set off around the country, scoping out places to live and re-connecting with past acquaintances. It's a fairly thin premise, the slightness of which is reinforced by a eye-rollingly trite resolution and the fact that the film's writers – novelist Dave Eggers (A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius) and his wife and fellow novelist Vendela Vida – offer surprisingly few insights into modern relationships.

They do, however, supply a hell of a lot of jokes that fall as flat as the pancakes they at one point try to turn into life metaphors (maple syrup is like love, apparently, and you've got to pour it on to your family and your home to bind them together). It doesn't help that the film's supporting characters are mostly contemptuous caricatures designed to make our self-absorbed protagonists seem a little more likeable and a little less dysfunctional. As an outrageously inappropriate married mother of two, Allison Janney almost manages to be funny, but she's not afforded the shred of humanity that would have made her character seem like a believable person in any way. Maggie Gyllenhaal gets a rawer deal as an independently wealthy, militant earth mother who still breastfeeds her children even though they're long past teething. Her irrational hatred of prams, meanwhile, leads to one of the film's many chaotic and resolutely unfunny comedic set pieces.

Indeed, it's only when Burt and Verona meet up with a vaguely normal couple (played by Chris Messina and Melanie Lynskey) that the film ever comes close to touching on something perceptive. These friends have created a seemingly happy family life together by adopting a bunch of kids, but as their own fertility problems are revealed, the film takes a plaintive, melancholic turn as it ruminates on the very real regrets a lot of couples in their late thirties experience after delaying family life to pursue careers, only to find themselves unable to conceive or take a pregnancy to term now that they're a little older. It's one of the few parts of the film where the snide, forced tone that makes the rest of it such a charmless watch subsides and real feelings manage to rise to the surface. Of course Mendes quickly botches this by deploying the aforementioned pancake/life analogy, but for these few brief scenes it's possible to see what he was driving at. It doesn't help that Burt and Verona are such dull characters.

Krasinski, best known for his role in the US version of The Office, is an immensely likeable actor, but he's too constricted here by the tedium of his character's journey. His sweetness is just a bit too calculatedly twee to be endearing. Maya Rudolph, a Saturday Night Live regular getting her first major starring role, has an even tougher job; she has to react to and play off Burt's insecurities, but she lacks the spark or the skills to transform the underwritten Verona into the lively presence the film needs her to be. Both are further constricted by Mendes's faux indie-shooting style. Though it's a relief for not to be confronted with his usual airtight, meticulously composed shots, he still can't let go enough for this to be the ribald, chaotic comedy it's striving to be. His attempts to create a relaxed and freeform vibe still have a very studied feel about them ensuring it often feels stilted and clumsy. The title may imply an certain urgency and need for movement, but Away We Go never succeeds in taking off anywhere meaningful.