After 2010's hidden gem "Cyrus," the Duplass brothers (Jay and Mark) return to the director's chair with the equally offbeat but less incisive and overly coincidental "Jeff, Who Lives at Home." Jason Segel achieves a certain honesty and likableness as the title character, a 30-year-old virgin and social misfit who's not quite agoraphobic but mostly stays in his mother's basement and watches "Signs" over and over. Ed Helms shows commendable range as Jeff's Porsche-driving brother, whose marriage is falling apart, and Susan Sarandon has seldom been more believable than as the mom who tells her AIM secret admirer she's old and getting flabby, but who's actually youthful in her openness to new possibilities. (Rae Dawn Chong also impresses in a rare meaty part; she hasn't had this much screen time since, oh, say, "The Squeeze.") The main problem is that, for a mumblecore movie, way too much happens in its 83 plot-heavy moments; coincidence piles on coincidence until the truly preposterous climax, which may make you laugh out loud. It's fine to wonder whether there are no accidents, and every wrong-number phone call has cosmic significance, but if there's no normal, quiet time for the magic moments to break up, they sort of lose their magic, don't they?
“Perfect Sense” isn’t what you’d call a date night’s light entertainment. It’s an apocalyptic romance with Eva Green and the ubiquitous Ewan McGregor as Glaswegians whose nascent affair coincides with the advent of a global pandemic in which, over a few months’ time, all of humankind experiences a series of sensory-overload moments (ravenous hunger, rage, overpowering grief), followed by the loss of each of the five senses.
“Jiro Dreams of Sushi” introduces us to Jiro Ono, chef-owner of the Tokyo sushi restaurant Sukiyabashi Jiro and holder of three Michelin stars. For most of his 85-year-old-life, Jiro has happily plied his trade at his subterranean eatery almost without missing a day. We learn the values behind his success: besides consistency and diligence, passion, perfectionism, a constant striving to improve. Director David Gelb makes the jewel-box sushi look mouthwatering, but the movie will delight even confirmed sushiphobes. Despite its seemingly minor subject matter, it insightfully explores the dynamics between brothers and between fathers and sons, and touches on many broader aspects of Japanese culture. Made with equal parts respect, affection, and sweet, sly humor, “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” is a treat.
The Israeli Oscar nominee “Footnote” manages to turn Talmudic philology into edge-of-your-seat stuff. It’s the clever story of father-and-son scholars whose unspoken rivalry reflects diametrically antithetical worldviews, lifestyles, and pedagogical approaches. When the wrong one is mistakenly told he’s won a cherished scholarly prize, we’re given a backstage pass to dilemmas, deal-making, and sacrifices. Though it could have been profitably cut by 15 minutes or so toward the end, “Footnote” is a movie of visual and storytelling wit and delicious humor that makes arcane textual analysis somehow thrilling.
The New Zealand import “Boy” is an instance of the trailer being better than the movie it advertises. The story of an ingratiating, Michael Jackson-loving 11-year-old Kiwi looks charming in a two-minute preview, but loses its appeal as it stretches over 87 desultory minutes. The mash-up of styles (from magical realism to flipbook animation) holds some interest, and I liked the catchy, Maori-inflected pop songs that play over the opening and closing credits, but “Boy” is too quirky for its own good. It’s not too cute by half; it’s too cute by all.
With "Mid-August Lunch" and now "The Salt of Life," writer-turned-director Gianni de Gregorio has carved out a niche as a sort of Italian Henry Jaglom. Short on cinematic technique, talky but breezy, his movies seem predestined to land right at 2 1/2 stars no matter what. They produce mostly wry smiles and chuckles, but manage to mine a few big laughs simply from underplaying and not forcing their human comedy.
Director Danis Tanovic ("No Man's Land") returns with the charming "Cirkus Columbia," a slice of small-town life in Bosnia-Herzegovina in the early 90s. Divko, a wealthy native, returns from a 20-year exile (he left when the commies came in), bringing a hot young redheaded wife, a flashy red Mercedes with a gas tank somewhere the service station attendant has never seen one, and his beloved black cat. The ex-wife and ham-radio-loving son he left behind are none too happy to see him, especially when he has the local police chief evict them from his apartment.
