Landline
*** ½ / *****
Directed
by: Gillian
Robespierre.
Written
by: Elisabeth
Holm & Gillian Robespierre and Tom Bean.
Starring:
Jenny
Slate (Dana), Abby Quinn (Ali), John Turturro (Alan), Edie Falco (Pat), Jay
Duplass (Ben), Ali Ahn (Sandra), Marquis Rodriguez (Jed), Jordan Carlos (Ravi),
Finn Wittrock (Nate), India Menuez (Sophie), Charlotte Ubben (Allison).
When I reviewed Super Dark Times
not that long ago, I wondered if we were going to start seeing more films set
in the early-to-mid 1990s, if for no other reason than because it would give
filmmakers an excuse to not have their characters constantly staring at their
phones. Watching Landline, Gillian Robespierre film set in 1995, I am now
convinced we will. In both cases, it seems like the filmmakers didn’t want to
deal with those glowing boxes we all hold all the time, so they set their films
earlier – in Super Dark Times, it allowed the plot to carry out in a way it
never could today, and in Landline, the filmmakers also use it as an excuse to
make a lot of 1990s jokes about Hillary Clinton or Lorena Bobbitt – some
definitely work better than others.
The film is Robespierre’s
follow-up to her terrific debut film, Obvious Child, a comedy starring Jenny
Slate as a young woman, who gets pregnant and has an abortion that doesn’t ruin
her life. That film was refreshing in the way it dealt with a host of issues
facing women today – and was hilarious to boot. Her follow-up doesn’t reach
those heights – she tries to expand her canvas a little bit, with mixed
results, but definitely proves she’s still one of the brightest, and funniest,
minds in indie film working right now.
The film focuses on two sisters –
Dana (Slate, again), somewhere in her late 20s, engaged to Ben (Jay Duplass),
who is lovable and dorky – and undeniably a tad boring as well – and Ali (Abby
Quinn), who is 16, and confident in the way only 16 year olds can be, when the
world exists in moral black and whites, and you have it all figured out. Their
parents are Alan and Pat – and played by John Turturro and Edie Falco, and
their marriage is on the rocks, and they don’t talk about it. When Ali figures
out – or thinks she does – than Alan is having an affair, she enlists her
sister to try and figure things out, not knowing that Dana herself is cheating
on Ben. They debate whether or not to tell Pat – never assuming that she may be
smart enough to figure it out for herself.
The overarching message of
Landline is an obvious, but still important one – life is messy, and no one has
all the answers. It would be easy to see Alan as a cheating monster –
especially since his reasons for cheating are fairly clichéd – and yet, I don’t
think the film does that. It does make it clear just why he may feel this way –
Pat is certainly belittling to Alan in a way that would be disheartening for
anyone. That doesn’t excuse Alan’s behavior, but it makes it more believable.
The relationship between Dana and Ben is also well handled – we often see
things in black and white when it comes to infidelity – either blaming the
cheating, or sometimes forgiving them as it we understand that their actual
relationship wasn’t working. Landline doesn’t do either – but goes somewhat
deeper than that.
Oddly, it is the coming in
Landline that doesn’t always land as well as the family dynamics. I did love
the bitter, cynical sisterly sniping between Ali and Dana – they were they
comedic highlight (especially since newcomer Quinn more than keeps up with the
great Slate). But there is too much other comedy that doesn’t quite work – all
those 1990s jokes that feel cheap, or the parade of humiliations that befall
Dana at every turn. Slate handles these well – but they’re cheap.
Overall though, I think Landline
is a good sophomore feature for Robespierre – no, it doesn’t quite reach the
heights of her debut, but it shows a willing to stretch, and try something
different (it’s no repeat of Obvious Child – and it has more ambition). I look
forward to her next film as much as I did to this one following her first film.
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