by Paul Costello
Dysfunctional families and their apparent inability to get along with each other, even at times of crisis when circumstance pulls them back together, is a story we’re all incredibly familiar with. Whether it’s through our own experience or the endless amount of attention afforded by Hollywood storytelling, we know what it is means when familial bonds are stretched to breaking point by impromptu revelations in a close-quarters environment: secrets are unearthed, truths are told, tears are shed and relationships are strengthened. Such is the journey of This is Where I Leave You, in which the Altman family are brought back together following the passing of the father and who are now, along with their over-sharing mother and an assortment of significant others, forced to spend a week living together under the same roof.
Dysfunctional families and their apparent inability to get along with each other, even at times of crisis when circumstance pulls them back together, is a story we’re all incredibly familiar with. Whether it’s through our own experience or the endless amount of attention afforded by Hollywood storytelling, we know what it is means when familial bonds are stretched to breaking point by impromptu revelations in a close-quarters environment: secrets are unearthed, truths are told, tears are shed and relationships are strengthened. Such is the journey of This is Where I Leave You, in which the Altman family are brought back together following the passing of the father and who are now, along with their over-sharing mother and an assortment of significant others, forced to spend a week living together under the same roof.
Perhaps the main reason that we as a culture have become so familiar with the “dysfunctional family” routine in our media is the fact that, as much as it is mined for laughs and tears in film, it is even more so in television. Sitcoms and family dramas are the backbone of televisual storytelling, and with good reason. The potential for what can be found in tracking the evolving relationships between friends and family over time is something that is not only relatable, but could yield interesting results given how much they can delve into the characters.
This is the first real flaw of This is Where I Leave You. Whilst characters do get maybe one moment of “honesty”, that bit where they just can’t keep it in any longer and come clean about their one big complaint in life, they all reach the same volume, so just become a dull roar of temporary discontent. Every story has something that could become interesting, but gets clipped for the sake of all the others. It’s a weird kind of democratic mediocrity. It seems to aim for balance, but actually just achieves blandness. Perhaps Jonathan Tropper just felt too uneasy about hacking away parts of his own novel in the adaptation process and, in doing so, ended up smothering the whole. Television could have served this sprawl of characters better, but film just doesn’t offer enough room for development.
This is the first real flaw of This is Where I Leave You. Whilst characters do get maybe one moment of “honesty”, that bit where they just can’t keep it in any longer and come clean about their one big complaint in life, they all reach the same volume, so just become a dull roar of temporary discontent. Every story has something that could become interesting, but gets clipped for the sake of all the others. It’s a weird kind of democratic mediocrity. It seems to aim for balance, but actually just achieves blandness. Perhaps Jonathan Tropper just felt too uneasy about hacking away parts of his own novel in the adaptation process and, in doing so, ended up smothering the whole. Television could have served this sprawl of characters better, but film just doesn’t offer enough room for development.
By that measure, it makes perfect sense that the cast of This is Where I Leave You is made up of some of the finest talent TV has had to offer in the past decade, people well versed in tracking characters amongst an ensemble. Jason Bateman, Tina Fey, Corey Stoll, Connie Britton, Timothy Olyphant, Adam Driver, Rose Byrne… all of these people have affirmed credentials in the world of TV, with some managing to translate that juice to the big screen with some success, and every one of them makes use of what they get. It’s just a shame that a script so packed with plots and subplots means few of them get the chance to really breathe. That there are no standout moments in the film speaks largely to the fact that no one really makes a play for show-stopper or scene-stealer (with exception of Jane Fonda, because… well, she’s Jane Fonda), apparently everyone deciding to respect the ensemble and not make it a battle of performances. Which is a shame, because that would at least have left us with something to hold onto after the credits rolled, instead of the amiable if largely innocuous film we have.
There’s no real detriment to seeing This is Where I Leave You, except to say that it won’t satisfy in the realm of either laughter or tears. You’ll like everyone in it, you won’t hate yourself for seeing it, and it’ll be a decent way of killing 103 minutes. But it won’t stay with you, won’t reveal anything profound to you, and probably won’t ever cross your viewing list again. A single viewing is pretty much where you’ll leave it.
There’s no real detriment to seeing This is Where I Leave You, except to say that it won’t satisfy in the realm of either laughter or tears. You’ll like everyone in it, you won’t hate yourself for seeing it, and it’ll be a decent way of killing 103 minutes. But it won’t stay with you, won’t reveal anything profound to you, and probably won’t ever cross your viewing list again. A single viewing is pretty much where you’ll leave it.
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