I meant to go see Noah Baumbach’s new film today.
The buzz is good on While We’re Young, and since google.com/movies had the wrong time for a screening, I guess I’ll have to find out for myself another day.
My good friend and colleague Laura Linder is in town, and we’d planned a working lunch followed by a social movie.
Since we were at the theatre anyway, we decided to see a film I would not have taken in otherwise: The Age of Adaline.
Why wouldn’t I have seen it otherwise?
Because the premise is ridiculous, and movies like this seldom deliver enough real magic to lead to my willing suspension of disbelief.
Here’s the set-up: a woman survives a freak car accident in the 1930s and stops aging afterward leaving her perpetually 29-years-old. Ugh.
The cast includes some good performers – especially Michiel Huisman, Ellen Burstyn, Harrison Ford, and Kathy Baker – and incredible wardrobe choices for the eponymous character played by Blake Lively.
But, I really shouldn’t be paying so much attention to the costuming and hairstyles unless they support one of the layers of meaning in a film.
If the far-fetched plot and wardrobe had unfolded in the service of some compelling themes, then there might be more to this slight film – some meaningful concepts undergirding the high-concept scenario.
Instead, I’m left wondering what I’m supposed to take away from the movie.
Though perhaps rare, I believe that love can be mystical, transforming, and enduring, but I don’t believe in pseudo-scientific explanations for freaky events, especially when they are narrated by a Rod Serling sound-alike.
There are many episodes of The Twilight Zone that are better than this movie, and the reason starts with better writing.