Away We Go

Why not watch Sam Mendes latest film, Away We Go. First, we have Mendes, reason enough (his American Beauty, Road to Perdition and Revolutionary Road are all very worthwhile viewings). Then we have the writers, Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida, both great, great writers. The cast is great across the board. The concept, a 30-something couple who find out they’re having a baby decide that they should chose a place to start a life, is original yet obvious and relatable - usually the best combo for drama.

 

But, upon its release, the talk wasn’t about why you should go see Away We Go, but, rather, why you should never, ever go see Away We Go. People hated the poster (reminds too much of Juno). People hated the premise (is this a fucking SEQUEL to Juno?). People hated the cast (Krasinski with a beard and art glasses? This IS a sequel to Juno!). People thought the overall look and feel of the trailer was overtly “hipster” - whatever that means.

 

So, in short, Away We Go, despite all the good it had going for it, never stood a chance. It cost only $17 million to make (low, considering it’s a road movie with many notable people involved) yet couldn’t turn a profit, bringing in only $9 million US dollars and only $760,000 around the rest of the world. A few thousand MUCH worse films make five times as much every decade.

 

But, haters, fuck you guys and your self-hatred (the theory here being that only poseurs still use or care about the expression “hipster,“ let alone judge things so harshly based on distant aesthetic appearance). This isn’t a great, landmark film. It’s not incredibly deep and it‘s not even a little bit inventive. It’s simple, really. And it’s good. There are good jokes here and there that certainly feel very Eggers-y and, if you remind yourself that you’re watching a film, the love between our two protagonists is very believable (considering this is all scripted, that is). And that hipster talk? Seriously? Are we nine year olds? Can films not exist in various worlds? People like this exist … how is making a film about a certain kind of person false? And why do we hate people described as hipsters so, so much?

 

Okay, how about the film. Let’s talk about the film.

 

Sitting in their cold, dark apartment (the portable heater having just blown out the fuse for the lights), Verona (SNL alum Rudolph) and Burt ( The Office’s Krasinski) talk about all the possible places they could move. Start over. Nothing to lose. Then, suddenly, they stop talking. Verona, now serious and somber, asks her husband-not-married Burt “are we fuck ups?” with no irony. She means it as a possible life changing declaration. “No. What do you mean?” he responds. “I mean that we’re 33 and we don’t even have this basic stuff figured out,” she says. “Basic like how?” “Basic, like, how to live.” “We’re not fuck ups.” “We have a cardboard window.” (Both look at window.) “I think we’re fuck ups,” she continues. “We’re not fuck ups.”

 

A live-in couple who do what they love and simply live in a way that makes sense to them. They are happy, so much so that, at one point, Verona turns to Burt, upset, and says “does anyone love each other like we do?” They don’t do the suburbs thing. They don’t really do anything aside from love each other and try for a better life here and there. Something wrong with that? They’re not extremists but they are outsiders, and convincingly so - especially Rudolph, who here uses subtle humor when compared to Krasinski’s sometimes over-baked presence. (By the way, P.T. Anderson is a lucky dude, as Rudolph’s looks have GREATLY improved since her SNL days. She’s unconventionally gorgeous here, and very interesting looking, too.)

 

These people and their situation are familiar to me, personally. They are likely familiar to most of my friends. They are, however, almost absolutely foreign to my parents and most of the people I went to high school with. Because of this, Away We Go never stood a chance, commercially speaking. To my mom, for example, Verona and Burt ARE losers. They’re living a life that my mom can’t understand. And that’s fine, but it does have me imagining a different film. I mean, how well would this have maybe done with no-name actors, a little LESS production value, an even hipper soundtrack and a little more edge? It’d be an indie hit that people thought was authentic. Instead, it comes off as the latest installation of Hollywood’s version of young, hip, indie-rock America (see Nick and Norah’s Big Adventure, or whatever, for another example).

 

So, basically, this couple goes from city to city, each place stopping to see friends who have children. They meet with these cities hoping to find places to live and they meet with these old friends hoping to gain insights about parenthood. For the most part, they find little to like. Not because they’re hard to impress (quite the opposite, actually), but because their friends have all gone crazy in different ways. Crazy in ways that might, in all honesty, seem more normal to my mom than Verona and Burt’s life choices. Cameos are wasted (particularly that of the great comedian Jim Gaffigan) and few of the moments with the other couples actually work. I find most to relate to in our lead couple.

 

The production value here is great. Mendes always chooses great cinematographers and editors. His soundtrack is not-so-hot (despite trying to be Juno-hip) but the general set design is good, if modest. Lighting works. In general, this is a well made film with no technical problems. It should - or very easily cold - be better than it is; but, damn, it’s not the big overly hip stinker it’s been written off as.

 

Like I said above, this isn’t inventive cinema or storytelling, despite its maker’s reputations. But, since it does so uncompromisingly appeal to a very certain kind of person/lifestyle (a lifestyle that would be described as “counterculture” to most Americans), its place in the overly detailed world of film history is secured. It’s unique in its minor way. It’s diet counterculture, Hollywood style. Worthwhile, for sure.   7/10

 

Written by G. William Locke