Day Nineteen: Smart People

I've avoided Smart People for a while, thinking it looked like a stilted, desperate version of better movies. Until tonight, I mostly just associated it with the quip my friend lobbed at a poster of it once: "Look, it's Dennis Beard and Thomas Haden Mustache." (Any movie that saddles its lead male star with an unkempt beard and depressed eyes is trying too hard to be indie.)

The movie had its moments, but I'm sorry to say that they were few and far between. Everything about it seemed calculated to draw its characters as boring types or to advance seemingly arbitrary and predictable plot lines. Ellen Page's snotty sarcasm, which worked so well in Juno, was just insufferable here, and Dennis Quaid's blustery professor was like a less interesting copy of Jeff Daniels' deliciously pompous intellectual from The Squid and the Whale (though I do think Dennis Quaid did a good job, and his character reminded me happily of one of my CSCL professors). None of the plot lines went anywhere; they just stayed in the same place until suddenly stuttering forward and being quickly, cheerfully resolved. The characters spent most of their time accusing each other of being arrogant and unlikable.

The movie reminds me of a question I have, one that will perplex me, I think, if I pursue filmmaking and/or screenwriting. Where's the line between subtle and all-too-obvious characterization? Why does Ellen Page's obsession with her grades, SAT scores, and academic extracurriculars come off as painfully forced instead of part of a realistically drawn character? How does the screenwriter use dialogue and actions to give us a sense of the character without spelling it out groaningly? Maybe Smart People seemed a lot smarter and realer on paper--oh, these characters with their many repeatedly reinforced character traits. But maybe not: maybe a bad movie is just bad, and it's easier than it looks.

Though this has nothing to do with anything else I've said, I will give the filmmakers credit for one minor character: the neurologist who serves as Sarah Jessica Parker's friend at the hospital where she works. I was happy when he appeared because the actor, David Denman, is a favorite of mine from The Office, and I was even happier when it was revealed that he was her gay confidante. It made me happy because we didn't find this out until his third or fourth scene, and usually the gay friend is cartoonishly drawn as such from the moment he comes onscreen. David Denman is a big, burly, bearded guy and doesn't speak with a high lisp or prance around girlishly. He never mentions fashion or calls SJP "honey." Ridiculous gay stereotypes bring a sad number of movies down, not to mention the fact that they're offensive. Of course, the character does fall prey to the movie's other sins of plotlines going nowhere and sadly underused supporting characters, but at least he wasn't made a buffoon.