Beaks Suffers Through 'The Break-Up'
4/28/2006
Posted by Mr. Beaks
If more mainstream romantic comedies were like The Break-Up, the genre would finally shed the “chick flick” stigma and repair the sterling reputation built up over a half-century ago by Messrs. Lubitsch, Hawks, Capra, Sturges, Cukor and so on. Though it’s dangerous to invoke those names, particularly when so much of The Break-Up’s effectiveness relies on improvised dialogue rather than tightly scripted banter, it’s important to remember that there was a time when studio movies relating the folly of the human mating ritual weren’t exclusively intended as comfort food for emotionally crippled women. Usually, it takes a cerebral exercise like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or a raunch-a-rama like The 40-Year-Old Virgin to get guys interested; here, Vince Vaughn is essentially banking on his connection with the entire male moviegoing demographic to turn this into more than a one-quadrant film capitalizing on the collective female pity party for Jennifer Aniston in the wake of Brad Pitt falling prey to the she-devil spawn of Jon Voight. That’s a pretty tall order for a guy who has yet to open a movie based solely on his appeal.

If you’ve seen the theatrical trailer, you know they’ve got enough to score at least a decent first weekend; however, that spot doesn’t begin to hint at the mildly desperate tone that predominates once Vaughn and Aniston’s relationship splinters. Though there are several uproarious set pieces throughout, the narrative is actually one big downward spiral that never feels like it’s going to recover. Usually, the zany third-act reconciliation is a forgone conclusion, but that’s far from the case in The Break-Up, which flirts with dark comedy as it charts a split gone catastrophic when the two squabbling parties refuse to move out of their ideal Chicago condo.

When I read the logline last year after the pitch sold, I couldn’t imagine the film being more than a trifle. When Aniston came aboard, I figured that was the kiss of death, since her big screen romantic comedy choices tend toward the banal (e.g. Picture Perfect, Along Came Polly and Rumor Has It…). Having written off the project completely, it wasn’t until several months ago that I noticed Peyton Reed had been hired to direct this otherwise unpromising cash-in. Suddenly, I was intrigued; the last I’d heard, Reed, smarting from the unjust box office failure of Down with Love, had disappeared to Guatemala or some shit, never to return until 20th Century Fox admitted they screwed him like his name was Freddy Malins. Having been one of his biggest fans since he segued from directing Mr. Show and Upright Citizens Brigade episodes to features with the buoyant Bring It On, and feeling that Down with Love looks more and more like a masterpiece every time I watch it (which is frequently), I was ecstatic to see that Reed was working again, especially on a sure-to-be-improv-heavy picture with talent like Vaughn, Aniston, Judy Davis, John Michael Higgins, Vincent D’Onofrio, Cole Hauser and Jason Bateman. Provided the script wasn’t a complete wreck, this looked like the perfect opportunity for Reed to reestablish himself as one of the most adroit comedic directors working today.

And that’s precisely what he’s done. The great onscreen triumph of The Break-Up is Jennifer Aniston, and while most critics will hail this professional turning point as a strictly personal achievement, there’s no way it happens without Reed, who gives her ample room to discover poignant human dimensions in what could’ve easily been a caricature indistinguishable from Rachel on Friends. Aniston’s Brooke is a flawed woman: her passive-aggressive act in the film’s pivotal argument allows Vaughn’s unrepentantly selfish Gary to play the martyr; she instigates the break-up as a harebrained scheme to humble a stubborn man; and her various ploys to make Gary jealous give him license to misbehave. In most of her film work (The Good Girl excepted), Aniston has lazily relied on mannered, sitcom-y tics to win the audience over; in The Break-Up, no matter how ridiculous the situation, she’s hitting on something truthful. When she walks in on a presumably nude Gary receiving a lap dance from some random bimbo after a game of strip poker convened as assuagement for his wounded manhood, she locks eyes with Vaughn and delivers an utterly devastating gaze that’s a mix of scorn, guilt and despair.

Have I mentioned that The Break-Up is funny, too? While Aniston’s busy imbuing the film with a soul, the rest of the cast is riffing up a storm. Whether he’s testifying to the brilliance of Michelangelo’s “Sixteenth Chapel” or trash talking a twelve-year-old via headset during a game of Madden ’05, Vaughn’s obviously the MVP in this department. Still, my favorite scenes came courtesy of the supporting cast. Judy Davis’s queen bitch of an artist is further evidence that her comedic talents have been tragically squandered, while Cole Hauser’s pervert of a brother fires off the most disastrously ineffective pick-up line you’re ever likely to hear. And it’s great to see Peter Billingsley playing Joey Lauren Adams’s pathetically cuckolded husband. Add in John Michael Higgins’s bizarre a cappella rendition of “Owner of a Lonely Heart”, and you could make the argument that this is an ensemble film as much as it is a showcase for the two leads.

Apparently, there’s a battle being waged over the ending of The Break-Up. The version I saw reminded me of Tootsie, with the end credits rolling wistfully as Jennifer Aniston strides off down a Chicago sidewalk following a semi-hopeful encounter with Vaughn. The other version is the same, only the credits are accompanied by an upbeat performance by Higgins’s vocal group meant to send the audience off on a much less dour note. After listening to audience members vigorously debating the fate of the two main characters, they’ve got to go with the former sans the temp U2 “Beautiful Day” music cue. Since Reed was smart enough to get Jon Brion to do the score, this would be a great place for an original track from the Phantom of the Largo.


In my rush to share my thoughts on The Break-Up, I’m sacrificing perspective, which, I think, will be very kind to Reed’s film. I just hope Universal isn’t goofing by releasing the movie on June 2nd when it feels like a late summer offering. Despite the dictates of its genre, this is actually a male weeper, and I can’t wait to watch guys explain away their tears as they shuffle out of the theater. Damn good show, Peyton.

i just dont get it. did the guy like it or not!?!?!?

he says something bad and then says something great. then something bad and then something great.

I don't see where you guys viewed anything he was saying as negative, but whatever, it gives me hope for a movie that I had yet to really be impressed by in the marketing.

If you’ve seen the theatrical trailer, you know they’ve got enough to score at least a decent first weekend; however, that spot doesn’t begin to hint at the mildly desperate tone that predominates once Vaughn and Aniston’s relationship splinters. Though there are several uproarious set pieces throughout, the narrative is actually one big downward spiral that never feels like it’s going to recover. Usually, the zany third-act reconciliation is a forgone conclusion, but that’s far from the case in The Break-Up, which flirts with dark comedy as it charts a split gone catastrophic when the two squabbling parties refuse to move out of their ideal Chicago condo.

It's a little odd.

The title and beginning of the review make it seem like he thought it was a disaster, yet he...loves it?

Not a well-structured review at all.