As a seasoned gamer and movie enthusiast with over two decades under my belt, I’ve seen more than my fair share of cinematic journeys through grief and loss. However, few have left me as frustrated and underwhelmed as “The Good Half.” This film, directed by Robert Schwartzman, aims high but falls short in its attempt to grapple with the weighty topic of coping with death.
Dealing with death is something unique to each person. It’s not a straightforward journey towards healing but rather an emotional rollercoaster filled with complex feelings that ebb and flow in strength. You don’t completely recover from sorrow, instead, you learn to manage it. As the quote from BoJack Horseman goes, “It gets easier, every day it gets a little easier.” I wish your encounters with loss are less taxing than watching The Good Half, a film that attempts depth on a heavy subject but misses the mark. Unfortunately, it’s more of a misstep than we would expect from a project starring Ryan Reynolds, directed by Zach Braff, and written by Joss Whedon.
28-year-old Renn Wheeland, portrayed by Nick Jonas, is unwillingly going back to Cleveland, Ohio following his mom Lily’s (Elisabeth Shue) demise. Struggling with writing, Renn harbors a strong dislike for his hometown and the stagnant state of his life. Upon his arrival, he adds cynicism and detachment to the already chaotic lives of his dad, Darren (Matt Walsh), and sister, Leigh (Brittany Snow). Leigh, in particular, has little patience for Renn’s antics as she is preoccupied with arranging their mother’s funeral.
As Renn goes about choosing a coffin and gathering cherished items from his childhood home, old memories seem to unexpectedly surface. Recollections of joyful times spent with Lily resurface, disrupting his present moments. Despite his casual remarks and nonchalant attitude, it’s evident that these nostalgic images are deeply affecting Renn, just as they are everyone else.
As a devoted admirer, I found myself mirroring Renn’s astonishment in Brett Ryland’s screenplay when he learned his mother would be laid to rest in a cemetery. Renn passionately asserted that Lily had always desired cremation, and the thought of her being buried in Cleveland was unthinkable. This city, it seemed, stirred an intense emotion within him, reminding me of one of the most impactful lines from The Last Black Man in San Francisco: “You don’t get to hate it unless you love it.”
In their portrayal of Cleveland in “The Good Half,” Schwartzman and Ryland fail to convey any distinct character or personality. The city could easily be swapped for any other American city without much change. Renn’s continual rants about his dislike for Cleveland serve only to emphasize the lack of unique identity in the film’s settings. This generic quality is also present in the movie’s dialogue, particularly in the supposedly witty banter between Renn and Zoey (Alexandra Shipp). Their conversations are dominated by sarcastic pop culture references, with little variation in their individual speech patterns. If “The Good Half” had revealed that Zoey was a Tyler Durden-like figment of Renn’s imagination, their identical speaking style might have been more justified!
Unfortunately, there’s no hidden flaw that can account for this screenplay weakness. Instead, Ryland’s script features characters conversing in very similar ways. To make matters worse, Renn’s attempts at humor fall flat, such as his line “I’m gonna stay right here in sad town.” The film The Good Half requires a rawer and more authentic tone. Instead, these forced jokes symbolize Schwartzman’s rigid and predictable narrative style. Even poignant moments, like Lee crying in front of a closet, feel contrived rather than genuine. There’s an excess of precision and polish in this production, which seems out of place for a movie dealing with the rough edges of grief.
As a gamer, I found it hard to accept Nick Jonas as the character Renn in this particular film. Despite his success in pop music and comedic roles like those in the Jumanji movies, he’s also proven himself on Broadway. Given his diverse acting background, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think he could handle a serious indie role.
In the play, chances for development are overlooked, particularly in the character of Rick Barona (David Arquette), portrayed as a stepfather. This role eventually transforms into an unambiguous “antagonist” for the storyline, which seems ill-suited for a realistic drama. The script’s use of clear-cut good and evil, or black-and-white morality, highlights the simplistic nature of The Good Half. Barona is not a multidimensional character; instead, he serves as a plot device, supplying ample villainy to bring our three main characters together in the final scene. It’s challenging for viewers to relate to these figures when they are treated more like props than characters within the script.
As a devoted admirer, I must single out Christopher Donion’s exceptional editing in “The Good Half” as the aspect that truly stands out for me. His skillful blending of Renn’s past flashbacks with the present narrative is nothing short of masterful. A simple callout of “Renn!” in the past instantaneously echoes in the present, creating a profound connection between these disparate time periods. Donion’s timing and precision in these transitions are commendable, offering a nuanced portrayal of Renn’s internal struggles that resonates deeply.
The visuals in The Good Half are mostly commonplace, except for some humorous wide shots showcasing the disorganized workspace of Father Dan (Steve Park). Unfortunately, there’s no striking imagery or memorable characters that leave a lasting impression. As a result, Robert Schwartzman’s film quickly fades from memory once The Good Half ends. The intricacies of coping with loss, which have inspired many outstanding films, are not well-executed in this movie. If you’re looking for exceptional art related to Nick Jonas, I recommend listening to the Jonas Brothers’ cover of “Year 3000” instead.
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2024-08-12 19:15