The Break-up
The Break-up not only carries on the tradition of romantic comedies, it dares to make them grow up. Think “When Sally Left Harry.” Think of all the Boomers you know whose marriages have busted. Think of how humorous all that can be.
Given the genre, I was expecting a movie along the lines of so many Meg Ryan romantic comedies, movies in which there’s plenty of angst on the journey toward a (more or less) satisfying relational resolution. I was also expecting the comedy to be more compelling than the angst. In The Break-up, however, the angst is the more compelling aspect, even though the comedy is very effectively handled. Oh—and, as in real life for disillusioned Boomers, there is no tidy resolution for the relational fireworks in Brooke and Gary’s romance.
I really thought this movie was in trouble during the opening credit sequence. After Brooke and Gary “meet silly” at a baseball game, the credits take us on a photo-montage tour of their romance and partnership. How seriously, I thought, can we take their romance? We know the break-up is coming; will a scrapbook sequence make us care?
Ordinarily, the themes of a movie interest me more than the performances themselves, particularly when it comes to mainstream popcorn flicks. Not so in this case. The meltdown that Brooke and Gary go through is completely sold by the outstanding characterizations and performances of Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn. Frankly, I was shocked at how good they were in these roles. I was completely convinced that the failure of their relationship was devastating to both of them. And because their performances convinced me that the break-up mattered to them, it mattered to me, too.
Judy Davis, as the owner of the art gallery where Brooke works, and Jon Favreau, as Gary’s bartending buddy, also deliver dynamite performances in supporting roles. Sure, such colorful characters are stock types in romantic comedies, but Favreau and Davis take things to a new level. And I haven’t had this much fun watching Vincent D’Onofrio since, oddly, Full Metal Jacket.
My hat’s off to director Peyton Reed. The Break-up may not serve up boffo boxoffice, but it dares to tweak the genre in surprising and realistic ways, and it delivers some of the most memorable characters that romantic comedies have ever seen.
It’s also a poignant reminder of how romance works out in real life: unpredictable, heartbreaking, and still full of promise. TV evangelists may try to sell the world the vision of a blissful, rosy existence. But The Break-up, quite honestly, knows better. It’s closer to the truth than prayer hankies will ever get you: sometimes love hurts, and sometimes—as Jesus knew in Gethsemane, and as Gary learns in The Break-up—sometimes love means not getting what you want.
Given the genre, I was expecting a movie along the lines of so many Meg Ryan romantic comedies, movies in which there’s plenty of angst on the journey toward a (more or less) satisfying relational resolution. I was also expecting the comedy to be more compelling than the angst. In The Break-up, however, the angst is the more compelling aspect, even though the comedy is very effectively handled. Oh—and, as in real life for disillusioned Boomers, there is no tidy resolution for the relational fireworks in Brooke and Gary’s romance.
I really thought this movie was in trouble during the opening credit sequence. After Brooke and Gary “meet silly” at a baseball game, the credits take us on a photo-montage tour of their romance and partnership. How seriously, I thought, can we take their romance? We know the break-up is coming; will a scrapbook sequence make us care?
Ordinarily, the themes of a movie interest me more than the performances themselves, particularly when it comes to mainstream popcorn flicks. Not so in this case. The meltdown that Brooke and Gary go through is completely sold by the outstanding characterizations and performances of Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn. Frankly, I was shocked at how good they were in these roles. I was completely convinced that the failure of their relationship was devastating to both of them. And because their performances convinced me that the break-up mattered to them, it mattered to me, too.
Judy Davis, as the owner of the art gallery where Brooke works, and Jon Favreau, as Gary’s bartending buddy, also deliver dynamite performances in supporting roles. Sure, such colorful characters are stock types in romantic comedies, but Favreau and Davis take things to a new level. And I haven’t had this much fun watching Vincent D’Onofrio since, oddly, Full Metal Jacket.
My hat’s off to director Peyton Reed. The Break-up may not serve up boffo boxoffice, but it dares to tweak the genre in surprising and realistic ways, and it delivers some of the most memorable characters that romantic comedies have ever seen.
It’s also a poignant reminder of how romance works out in real life: unpredictable, heartbreaking, and still full of promise. TV evangelists may try to sell the world the vision of a blissful, rosy existence. But The Break-up, quite honestly, knows better. It’s closer to the truth than prayer hankies will ever get you: sometimes love hurts, and sometimes—as Jesus knew in Gethsemane, and as Gary learns in The Break-up—sometimes love means not getting what you want.
posted by Greg Wright at 6:35 PM
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