Sundance 2016: "OTHER PEOPLE" Review

David, having the shittiest year of his life: "I always thought these kinds of things happened to other people."

Gabe: "Well, to 'other people,' you are 'other people'."



Other People is the debut feature film of writer/director Chris Kelly who, when he's not busy toying with the emotions of Sundance audiences, writes for Saturday Night Live.

In the film, his knack for laughs shines through in spades with this semi-autobiographical story about David, a fledgling comedy writer (Jesse Plemons) who returns home to Sacramento to help his father (Bradley Whitford) and sisters (Maude Apatow, Madisen Beaty) care for their cancer-stricken matriarch (Molly Shannon).

Judging by the reactions of those around me at the screening, Kelly and the cast totally nail the experience of caring for a sick loved one. As far as being its own piece of drama, the performances are honest and emotional. Plemons proves himself as a viable leading man while Shannon plays the deteriorating Joanne with grace and nuance. This is not the Mary Katherine Gallagher we're used to, but it works wonderfully.

In terms of being a "cancer comedy," Other People is one of the funniest and most endearing I've ever seen. The leads are terrific, but it's young J.J. Totah who steals the show as Justin, the little brother of David's only friend in Sacramento, Gabe (John Early). That living-room dance recital had me rolling!

That's not to say the film is all sunshine and daisies. I kind of felt cheated in the end by a running motif involving Train's hit song "Drops of Jupiter." The song is the bane of David's existence since it constantly reminds him of the pain and suffering of home. To avoid spoiling the specifics, in one way, the very end of the movie uses the song so perfectly, I nearly cried. However it also felt like the world's biggest contrivance, and to end an otherwise delicately emotional film that way ruined the payoff for me.

Regardless, the film received a standing ovation from the 9am crowd, which bodes well for its chances in the festival's U.S. dramatic competition. Keep an eye out for some kind of release later this year.

B+

"Dirty Grandpa" Review

Since this movie features a sight gag in which it's meant to look like Zac Efron is getting head from an 8-year old boy on the beach, it's tough to give Dirty Grandpa a fair shake.

I don't know who in either Efron's camp or (especially) Robert DeNiro's thought it would be a smart career move to make this film. It is quite simply one of the worst movies this reviewer has ever seen.

The barely-there story involves the young, uptight Jason (Efron) driving his grandpa (DeNiro) down to Florida the week before Jason is to be married. The road trip quickly escalates into the bachelor party from Hell when Grandpa catches a whiff of a horny college girl (Aubrey Plaza) and decides they need to follow her and her friends to Spring Break in Daytona Beach. One of her friends is an old photography classmate of Jason's. The two reconnect, throwing a potential wrench in the wedding plans.

The shenanigans culminate precisely how you'd expect, but the film takes the most absurd way to get there.

I don't care how hot Zac Efron is. Any girl who would take him back after becoming a homewrecker and nearly dying by his hand in a high-speed freeway chase involving a bus, an ice cream truck and the inept Daytona Beach police force is a complete idiot.

Most of the interactions between the main and supporting characters are just convenient plot devices. Dermot Mulroney plays Jason's dad, a lawyer, who is conveniently present to inform the police that they can't arrest his son, despite causing wanton mayhem on a freeway, because they're out of their jurisdiction. Once they realize this, Jason is free to live happily ever after with no consequences.

I wish I were white enough to get away with a stunt like that.

The last thing I can really say is that the jokes are sophomoric even by Will Ferrell's standards. It's all penis, poop, drug and sex jokes that don't make you think so much as bludgeon you over the head for shock value. It's hard to contain a snicker when the once-nuanced DeNiro spouts lines like "I'd rather let Queen Latifah shit in my mouth from a fucking hot air balloon." It's not particularly funny, but who in their right mind would've ever thought DeNiro would say something like that? Since one last masterpiece seems out of the question at this stage in the man's career, I probably should've cried instead.

Though Dirty Grandpa doesn't quite scrape the bottom of the barrel the way Adam Sandler's recent outings have, there's still no prize for being the next shiniest turd in the Depends. Avoid like the plague. Believe it or not, there are far better sex comedies out there.

F