Showing posts with label Tobias Menzies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tobias Menzies. Show all posts

Sunday, July 6, 2025

You Hurt My Feelings


 














Writer/director Nicole Holofcener

Holofcener with Julia Louis-Dreyfus

















YOU HURT MY FEELINGS             C                                                                                    USA  (93 mi)  2023  d: Nicole Holofcener

The whole world is falling apart, and this is what’s consuming you?                                          —Don (Tobias Menzies)

In an era where it’s often hard to distinguish an actual movie from television, as they’ve become one and the same, this leans decisively towards the world of television, never once actually feeling like a movie, more like a sitcom, as there’s nothing cinematic about it and instead seems designed to be seen on a small screen instead of a theater, which does not enhance the viewing experience.  From the maker of Enough Said (2013), starring Seinfeld’s own Julia Louis-Dreyfus and The Soprano’s star James Gandolfini in his final film role, it does not appear that the passage of time has done anything to improve the abilities of this director, though in her films dating struggles have now given way to parenting problems, yet there’s simply nothing imaginative about the story or the way it’s presented, where this just feels like something written exclusively for television, as it’s only mildly entertaining and largely forgettable.  Premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in 2023, the premise of the film happens to be that writers tend to be extremely insecure, where the least little criticism can send them into an emotional tailspin that sends them over the edge, questioning their talent and self-worth, always seeking personal validation, revealing our own deeply embedded insecurities in how much we value the approval of others.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is Beth, a writer who is struggling to follow up on her last effort, which was a somewhat successful memoir about the verbal abuse she received from her father, now delving into the world of fiction with her first novel, which feels much more open-ended, like a world that’s harder to crack, and it’s causing her all kinds of anxiety and self-doubt.  Beth is also a creative writing instructor, leading a small class of would-be writers, encouraging them to read fragments of their work, exploring ideas and materials, where her role is offering creative support, even after she hilariously discovers they have never read her work.  Her husband Don (Tobias Menzies), on the other hand, is a psychotherapist, like Nanni Moretti in The Son's Room (La stanza del figlio) (2001), but finds himself alienated from his clients, whose problems interest him less and less, discovering he is less engaged, where he actually mixes up the personal histories of his patients.  Together, however, they have that happy marriage, part of New York’s middle class in Manhattan, where the city itself is a character that weaves in and out of the storyline.  Raised on the Upper West Side, Holofcener grew up as an extra on the sets of Woody Allen’s TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN (1969) and SLEEPER (1973) before working as a production assistant for A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy (1982) and assistant editor on Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), while her mother Carol Joffe was Allen’s frequent set decorator, and her stepfather Charles H. Joffe was the executive producer for fifty years of Allen’s films, placing her smack dab in the middle of a burgeoning New York City arts scene, where she was taught by none other than Martin Scorsese at Columbia University’s film school.  Much of Holofcener’s work has a realistic yet satiric style, most of it shot on location, where she seems to have built a career around superfluous characters and stunted emotional growth, creating a comedy of manners that examines the lives of the upper middle bourgeoisie, often intellectual, and from a female perspective, making seven features, though most of her work has come in television. 

While Holofcener likes to complain that nobody has seen her films, with critics suggesting that not much happens in her films, which may be filled with “little daily dramas,” or what Beth describes as her “little narcissistic world,” and while plot may not be her strong suit, much more focus is spent on character and dialogue.  Still, much like the central character in this film, she may have insecurities about her work, where the things people say matter, though in the bigger picture she may overlook much of the criticism, but when it comes from her inner circle, that makes all the difference.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is one of the most successful comedic actresses in television history, bringing a silliness, a quirkiness, and most of all an intelligence when it comes to her screen roles, blending emotional authenticity with a heavy dose of irreverence, with Holofcener writing the part with her in mind.  While Beth is comfortable visiting bookstores, she has a habit of trying to move the location of her books into a more prominent position, offering greater accessibility to the public, which is viewed as small-minded and petty, thinking exclusively of herself, showing little regard for the other authors.  And though she has painfully been going through the rewrites on her novel, she is disappointed to learn that her publisher believes it is still in need of many more rewrites before it’s ready for publishing, immediately thinking of herself as a failure, second guessing her every move.  Her 23-year old son Eliot (Owen Teague) is a budding playwright, feeling the pressure of having a writer for a mother, unable to realize his own writing ambitions, so he works in a low-key job as a store clerk in a cannabis store, which causes his mother endless worry, as it attracts a fringe element of lowlifes and derelicts, where the lone security guard looks asleep half the time.  Beth’s sister Sarah (Michaela Watkins) is an interior designer, but faces constant rejection from demanding upscale clients, spending her days scouring the Upper West and East sides searching for just the right products, where the callousness of her clients matches the tastelessness of their choices.  Her husband Mark (Arian Moayed) is a budding actor who never seems to find work, always on the verge of professional failure, but he hangs around the fringes of the industry hoping something falls his way.  What seems apparent, however, is that everyone is suffocating from their own mediocrity.  A common thread is watching a cyclical rotation of Don’s patients, none of whom seem to get any better, perhaps best represented by real-life married couple Amber Tamblyn and David Cross in the first time they’ve appeared in a film together, who hold little love for each other, yet are inseparable, as they can’t live without complaining about their partners.  A familiar refrain that runs through this picture is an utter dissatisfaction with their work, which has a way of feeling existentially soul-crushing, mirroring the anxieties they feel about growing older, as they’re not as young and cute as they used to be, where small satisfactions loom larger, yet they can’t shake the fear that impending mortality lies around every corner.  

What really sets the wheels in motion, however, is Beth accidentally overhearing a discussion between Don and Mark, where her husband honestly confesses he really didn’t like the latest work she’s written, which hits her like a ton of bricks, as he’s been her staunchest supporter.  They’re the kind of married couple that finishes each other’s sentences, sharing one another’s food, even licking from the same ice cream cone, which drives their son nuts, finding it disgusting.  Considering the reliability of the source, feeling utterly betrayed, she falls into a depression, turning a cold shoulder, avoiding him like the plague, but refuses to share what’s on her mind, instead allowing it fester, growing passive-aggressive, where she just grows angrier and more indignant.  Her entire relationship is shaken, not knowing who to trust anymore, as the foundation of their marriage has suddenly been exposed as a lie, losing all sense of equilibrium.  None of the characters are fully developed, feeling more like caricatures, yet they continue to utter smart-assed remarks for comic value, feeling very hit or miss, where the only one in the entire film that feels real is Beth’s aging mother Georgia, played by the great Jeannie Berlin, daughter of Elaine May and so powerful in Kenneth Lonergan’s 2011 Top Ten Films of the Year #2 Margaret, as her dialogue never feels forced or couched in comedy, sounding very much like a proud Jewish mother who wants the best for her children, even as they’ve grown into fledgling adults, still filled with the same insecurities and deficiencies they had in childhood, but they’ve also developed much greater intelligence and talent.  She’s insistent that Beth’s publisher hasn’t done a good job marketing her book, urging her to seek out another, convinced that her daughter is a great writer.  And she could easily be, but you’d never know it, as none of the characters are internalized or self-reflective, feeling very surface level, where the film is a series of incidents that only exacerbate the differences and commonalities between us, where the things that drive us apart also bring us together, where there’s a thin line between love and hate.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus is the center of the picture, with everything revolving around her, and, as always, she’s commercially appealing, observant of those around her, like a stand-in for the director, where this single incident has made her question everything in their relationship, dredging up the past, where suddenly everything is seen in a new and different light.  Everyone feels the need to be valued, in all aspects of our existence, where doubt, or silence, upsets our feelings.  A film about trust, lies, and the things we say to the people we love most, where encouragement is not always supported by the truth, oftentimes hiding our true feelings with little white lies, yet offering our full support, irrespective of how we feel, is what matters most, as we want the best out of those closest to us.  None of this is revelatory or earth-shaking, or particularly profound, but it’s ensconced in a feel-good air of white-privileged, middle class contentment.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Forget Me Not
















FORGET ME NOT                 B-                   
Great Britain  (93 mi)  2010  ‘Scope  d:  Alexander Holt and Lance Roehrig

A different kind of relationship picture, as the sparks don’t really fly in this one, rather it’s a more measured and deliberately paced story of two people meeting one another quite by accident, where the initial politeness leads to genuine concern, which has a staying power all on its own.  While it pales in comparisons to ONCE (2006), or either of Richard Linklater’s Parisian bookends, BEFORE SUNRISE (1995) or BEFORE SUNSET (2004), this draws similarities with a lead singer/songwriter and the late night walks through the picturesque streets of London, but chooses to go in a different direction.  Tobias Menzies opens the film strumming his guitar and singing in a pub, where no one in particular is really paying much attention except perhaps the barmaid, Genevieve O’Reilly, who sneaks a few peaks between her rounds.  Ironically, the song is a rallying anthem style of song where no one is really joining in.  Afterwards, showing some difficulty finding the right key to his apartment, Will (Menzies) shows even more troubling signs once inside, as he’s disturbingly considering various ways of committing suicide, interrupted by a phone call from the barmaid reminding him he left his guitar behind.   As his concentration has been broken, he decides to retrieve his guitar, returning home a short time later, where he hears screams on the street where a young woman, Eve (O’Reilly), is being accosted by an overly aggressive drunken customer.  After intervening, the two run to safety, which leads to a few awkward silences before Will agrees to walk her to the transit station, only to discover that it’s closed.  Rather than wait a half hour for a hired cab, they decide to walk.

What takes place is a rather on again and off again relationship, where just as they seem to be hitting it off, Will will offer a strange or negative comment that sends a heavily guarded Eve back into the exit mode, eventually escaping into the night to a party that Will showed no interest in attending with her, despite her genuine appeals.  The party itself is bizarre, as we hear no music, yet people are all dancing through the use of headphones, carrying on as they would at any party, but the lack of music was a puzzler to the viewer, usually one of the highpoints in similar movie scenes.  Will eventually changes his mind and joins her, where they spend the night losing themselves in silliness.  A good portion of the film just follows them walking through the near deserted streets in the late night hours, including a dimly lit walk along the riverbank, crossing a beautifully illuminated bridge and past the Houses of Parliament.  Almost by accident, they’re still together by morning, but barely know any more about one another.  She needs to visit her grandmother (Gemma Jones), however, for a serious medical assessment, as she’s showing early signs of Alzheimer’s disease.  The grandmother is irritable and feisty, becoming overly defensive about being the object of attention, finding everyone’s behavior towards her a bit rude and offensive, though afterwards, it’s unclear what she even remembers.        

After getting caught in a downpour, think Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling in THE NOTEBOOK (2004) seen here:  (http://images.allmoviephoto.com/2004_The_Notebook/2004_the_notebook_003.jpg, the picture used on the cover of the DVD), where the two decide to head to Will’s apartment, quickly ridding themselves of their wet clothes, ending up in each other’s arms, where all is going as expected until the tone shifts suddenly, where instead of romance there is dysfunction, which becomes a complete mystery baffling Eve as well as the audience, which in its own way is strange and curiously unique, obviously too mystifying and too downbeat of an ending, so they tack on a much happier finale that at least is more open ended, but in doing so, they give away much more detailed information than the audience needs to know, which isn’t present anywhere else in the picture.  If truth be told, it was much more mysterious not knowing, which held a greater dramatic impact as a result, but the first time filmmakers fell victim of offering an overly sympathetic explanation that clearly disappoints.  A thread of introspection runs throughout this movie, along with a downbeat melancholia, accentuated by fairly typical piano and cello music, often used to reflect sadness.  These characters are haunted by much greater loneliness and social isolation than the more romantic comparison movies, where despite the lack of sexual sizzle, there’s a good deal of uncommunicated empty space between these characters, which the audience can read in any number of ways.  Opening with a suicide attempt, there’s obviously more going on under the surface than the viewer is ever allowed to comprehend.  Part of the mystery is trying to figure out the root of his detachment, which pervades to the core of his troubled character throughout, even when Eve and the audience are led to believe he’s really happy.  As it turns out, he’s not that happy, but whether he likes it or not happiness is thrust upon him.