Home Again

Clearly, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree as the daughter of rom-com director Nancy Meyers has crafted her own white privilege film with the treacly and inauthentic comedy "Home Again."

Hallie Meyers-Shyer (the daughter of Nancy Meyes and Charles Shyer) wrote and directed the Reece Witherspoon passion project about a newly-separated just-turned-40-year-old mother of two named Alice (Witherspoon) who needs something in her life. We're not quite sure what, because within minutes of the opening -- in which she is crying in her bathroom (because it's her 40th birthday and her life isn't where it should be) -- we witness her two beautiful and well-behaved kids and the gorgeous house she lives in. We've also just seen a voice-over montage about her movie director father and her actress mother and how wonderful her life was growing up, despite the fact that dad wasn't around much. His big flaw was his womanizing which, sure, sucks -- but other than that he was perfect and talented and awesome. And Alice had no qualms with him.

Which is the problem with the film. Everyone is wonderful and perfect and even if they have problems they are vanilla problems.

Anyway, back to the "story." It's Alice's big night out with her two girlfriends, where they drink ros� wine all night and Alice insists it's all about her. There, she flirts with a younger guy named Harry (Pico Alexander) who somehow charms her into having her and her friends hang with him and his buddies all night, despite the fact that Tedy (Nat Wolff) and George (Jon Rudnitsky) are all much younger than her. Yadda yadda yadda, they all end up crashed at Alice's house (the kids are with her mom), and she almost sleeps with Harry.

Because the alternate title of this film should have been "Non Threatening," nothing happens and Alice wants to send the troops on their way. But mom Candace Bergen shows up with the kids, and she is immediately charmed with the boys who -- whaddya know -- were fans of hers and Alice's dad. Moreover -- natch -- they are filmmakers themselves. (Actor, director, writer.) So Mom suggests Alice take them in while they settle in L.A. and struggle for their dreams. Why? Who knows. Maybe Alice needs to get over her recent separation? (Give her some damn time!) Because she's privileged? Who knows, it makes no sense. Everyone is just so nice. Literally. Aside from Harry's age, there is zero conflict in this film. Everything works out for everybody, and everybody is sweet to everybody else. Like, what is the problem? Even I'd live with Alice. She's awesome. The house is awesome. The kids are awesome.

The one teensy bit of conflict is Alice's kind-of-arrogant husband, Austen (Michael Sheen), but even he's not so bad. Because, well, Meyers-Shyer doesn't want anyone to be mean or hateful. The one other bit of non-conflict is an unnecessary subplot with Alice's first interior decorator client, played by Lake Bell. She's a rich, self-involved socialite who allows Alice to have one bit of "stand-up-for-herselfness" that is unnecessary.

The ultimate plot here is how the boys affect Alice and how Alice affects the boys. The biggest problem with the film is that there isn't one moment that is genuine. While there is charm through the performances, it all feels incredibly fake, and that even makes the actors seem really, really bad. Even Witherspoon's chops take a nose-dive. Half the time she's over enunciating her retorts like everyone around her is hard of hearing. She's constantly having those wispy glazed over staring moments where she is internally realizing how fucking charmed her stupid life is.

Not only that, Alexander who plays her 27-year old love interest is a creepy drip. I'm not sure if it's how he's written or how he is played, but it's clear the actor doesn't have enough life experience to know how to have authentic moments. His means of seduction is biting his lower lip and eyeing his target like prey. Why Alice falls for him is beyond me. Not only that, Alexander's acting style is from the Hayden Christianson playbook where every word is spoken slowly and sort of oddly. He's really not good, and it's baffling how anyone thought he'd be the best choice for the role. I felt bad for Witherspoon having to hold her own in scenes with him, since she clearly had to do all the heavy lifting.

While there is a shiny superficial charm to the film and Witherspoon, even while not at her best, saves it as best she can, this is truly one of the worst movies of the year. Truth be told, Nancy Meyers movies are like nails-on-a-chalkboard for me, so I wasn't expecting her daughter to lift the medium to another level. But it would be nice if she could learn from the mistakes of her mother and get her characters out of the Pottery Barn catalogue and into real life.

Also, cast please cast someone of color. Anyone! Aside from an Indian hotel manager and an Asian actress playing a designer, the film is as white as snow. And the one gay character is, of course, a prissy thing that gets shoved out of the way by one of the straight guys. If I thought Meyers-Shyer was even vaguely aware of any of this, I'd be mad. But the entire movie comes across as completely delusional as to how the real world works. It's like what a sixteen-year old thinks adult life is like.

But perhaps that's what makes the title of the film a propos. Could it be the case that Meyers-Shyer is simply writing what she knows? Rich, successful white people who live in gorgeous homes, have kids in the best schools, have no friends that look different from themselves, and have gorgeous kitchens with huge islands and swoony backyard picnic table settings? (Wait'll you see the scene where the boys make Alice dinner and set up a projector in the backyard. My eyes rolled so far back in my head I could see my ass.) If so, then she really is "home again."

For everyone else, though, the film is a fantasy. And judging by the screaming laughter by all the white twenty- and thirty-somethings in the audience, this film hit target its demo.

And then I wept into a glass of Pinot Grigio.