Even without
Thomas Haden Church's familiar presence as a grubby ne'er-do-well, Smart
People would still strongly recall Alexander Payne's Sideways, with its
story of an unloveable, acerbic, pretentious middle-aged clot tentatively
pursuing redemption through the love of a good woman. But even more so than in Sideways, there's a
question of whether he actually deserves either redemption or love. Dennis
Quaid's arrogant professor character isn't just the cinematic stereotype of a
mildly off-putting geek who needs a wardrobe change and some dancing lessons to
become a suave hero; he's an obnoxious, self-absorbed ass, the kind of guy who
deliberately parks his beat-up old Saab across two parking spots, and who
covers his bad behavior with sloppy lies, then gets angry at anyone who isn't
fooled. He could stand in for Jeff Daniels' similarly toxic snob in The
Squid And The Whale, if only he were a little smarter and a little better-dressed.
So why should
audiences care whether this undeserving schlub finds happiness? Good question,
and one first-time screenwriter Mark Jude Poirier and first-time director Noam
Murro never fully answer. But they have the sense to make their black "comedy"
about several other things. Smart People gets a welcome boost from Juno star Ellen
Page as Quaid's daughter. Once again, she's playing perky and snarky, though
her prissy, overcontrolling, judgmental young-Republican teen is almost as
poisonous as Quaid. Church, as Quaid's slovenly, loser-ish adopted brother,
actually comes across as the most pleasant of the three, even as he gets Page
high and drunk by way of offering her a bonding experience.
Smart
People seems to be maneuvering for a slot among the Little Miss
Sunshines of the world, with its alternating doses of quirk and mild
sentiment. To its detriment, those areas have suddenly become well-trod ground,
and it brings nothing fantastically new to the table. But in its favor, it
never piles on either one too heavily; it's about small realizations and baby
steps, not big, chord-swelling, crowd-pleasing triumphs. Like Squid and Sideways, it's a
discomfiting character study in which compelling, convincing acting and lively
dialogue help mitigate the feeling that none of these people are worth spending
time with. But it starts at such a level of abrasiveness that it really has
nowhere to go but up. It doesn't fall to Todd Solondz levels of misery, but you
can see them from here.