On the Rocks

This year's ON THE ROCKS feels like a lateral move for writer/director Sofia Coppola, whose career has been somewhat diverse, with historic and contemporary dramas that are sometimes social satires, sometimes anachronistic.   Many would say that the daughter of Francis primarily makes movies about rich white people and their problems.  If you look at her filmography, a case can be made.  There's yet to be a gritty urban drama on her watch.   But I've always been fascinated by her point of view, almost other worldy.  An artistic sensibility that came full circle with 2003's LOST IN TRANSLATION.

Bill Murray starred in that film, and returns for ON THE ROCKS as Felix, a wealthy, highly ingratiating playboy who convinces his daughter Laura (Rashida Jones), an author suffering writer's block, to accompany him as he tails her husband Dean (Marlon Wayans), an entrepreneur who is suspected of having an affair with his leggy co-worker.  He once again does his well known and loved Murray persona, and he's wonderful.  Reason enough to sit through this wafer thin dramedy that would be right at home on basic cable.  It's true.  I was quite surprised at how innocuous the film is.  Were it not for a Chris Rock routine Laura watches early on, this could easily have been a PG movie.

Hardly Sofia's finest hour, and rarely plays like one of her movies.   It's cozy, non-threatening.  There are a handful of perceptive moments and stings of recognition, especially for viewers who are married.  But it's all so pat.  Not messy enough.   It's not really that serious or funny (possibly excepting Jenny Slate as Laura's very talkative acquaintance, a fellow mother at her kids' school).  It exists in some nether world between indie and Hallmark.  Not quite edgy, and not entirely vanilla.  There are some fleeting contemplative moments, and nice shots of New York City. 

I liked Jones' performance.  She was entirely believable as a weary wife and mother who begins to question everything, and is haunted by what seem to be clues that her husband has been unfaithful.  Also believable is her relationship with Felix, who thinks he knows a cad when he sees one.  Much is made of his infidelities and overall failure as a parental unit.  But Laura (and the audience) can only be mad at him for a moment at a time, because he's just so damned charming, whether bringing caviar to a stakeout, name dropping to get out of a speeding ticket, or serenading a group of new friends at a resort in Mexico.   "What's it like to be you?" she asks him.  Coppola lets her star inhabit the role, and his trademarked deadpan doesn't reveal anything other in response than, he relishes it.  

ON THE ROCKS derives most of its worth from Mr. Murray, but otherwise feels like warmed over Neil Simon.  It's the sort of movie you take in while wrapped in an expensive bathrobe with a glass of Cabernet, and forget five minutes later.