Four stars. Rating: R, for profanity and mild sensuality
By Derrick Bang
Established writers, when doing
the obligatory meet-and-greet with fans — at book signings or lectures — know
that, sooner or later, somebody will ask the predictable tired question:
“Where do you get your ideas?”
 |
| Darius (Aubrey Plaza), worried about spooking the odd man that she and her fellow magazine staffers — Arnau (Karan Soni, center) and Jeff (Jake M. Johnson) — have staked out, doesn't want to follow the guy too closely. More to the point, she's beginning to question her motives; can her objectivity survive, if she develops feelings for their target? |
Neil Gaiman used to claim a
subscription to the Idea-of-the-Month Club. Harlan Ellison generally cites
Poughkeepsie. Joe King, son of Stephen King and now an established author in
his own right, has a different geographic source: “Schenectady. They have ’em
on a shelf in a Mom & Pop on Route 147.”
The point, of course, is that
it’s a silly question ... except when it isn’t.
Back in 1997, readers found a
rather bizarre classified ad on page 92 of the September/October issue of
Backwoods Home magazine. It read, in part, “WANTED: Someone to go back in time
with me. This is not a joke ... You’ll get paid after we get back. Safety not
guaranteed.” Replies were directed to a Post Office box in Oakview, California.
The ad became a national
phenomenon. The guys on National Public Radio’s Car Talk read it aloud; it
also was mentioned on other NPR shows. Jay Leno read it on his late-night TV
show. Eventually, bewildering and delighted by all the fuss, Backwoods Home staffer
John Silveira confessed authorship, explaining that the magazine often used
“fillers” when the classified ad section came up short, and that this had
simply been a throwaway joke.
Few people ever read Silveira’s
explanation, though, and the ad’s sense of enchanted whimsy merely intensified,
when it later went viral on the Internet ... which is where it came to the
attention of aspiring screenwriter Derek Connolly, until then known solely for
the pilot episode of a never-sold TV sitcom, Gary: Under Crisis.
Which brings us to the present
day, with Connolly’s debut movie script — Safety Not Guaranteed — having just
won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.
Connolly’s wry, endearing and
hilariously arch screenplay would be reason enough to see this charmer, but the
film’s highlights don’t stop there. It’s also deftly directed by Colin Trevorrow,
who clearly understood the tone required by this gentle slice of whimsy. The
result is thoroughly delightful: a mildly peculiar, frequently snarky ode to
misfits, very much in the mold of Gregory’s Girl or Benny & Joon.
Trevorrow and Connolly also cast
their film well, most notably by granting Aubrey Plaza a well-deserved
opportunity to shine in a starring role. She first hit my radar as the only
element of merit in 2009’s otherwise dreadful Adam Sandler/Seth Rogen vehicle, Funny People; her part was small but memorable, and for all the right
reasons. Even in her few short scenes, she clearly had “it.”
Her ongoing work as a regular on
TV’s Parks and Recreation has done much to increase her visibility, but her
enchanting performance in this film will make her a highly valued star. And
with good reason: Her comic timing is superb, and her presence — her ability to
fully inhabit a character, and make every move and gesture seem authentic — is
exceptional.
She stars here as Darius, a
woebegone, withdrawn young woman utterly unable to navigate the complexities of
life and her own emotional fragility. She’s currently “employed” — with no
revenue stream — as an intern at Seattle Magazine, where she’s mistreated by
the waspish editor-in-chief, Bridget (Mary Lynn Rajskub, still remembered from
TV’s 24).
A bullpen story-pitch session,
going nowhere rapidly, comes to life when staffwriter Jeff (Jake M. Johnson)
mentions having seen the daft classified ad in question. He suggests staking
out the Post Office box cited for responses to the ad, with the intent of
meeting and interviewing its author; surely, there must be a story in that. Bridget agrees, and allows Jeff to take
Darius and another fellow intern, Arnau (Karan Soni), a geeky, mild-manned
science major who has taken this job solely to broaden his résumé.
The three set off for Ocean View,
Washington, where they park across from the Post Office. Eventually, they spot
Box 91’s owner, Kenneth (Mark Duplass), and follow him home. But the suspicious
and ultra-paranoid Kenneth wants nothing to do with Jeff’s superficial,
super-slick and condescending attitude, and so “first contact” responsibility
falls to Darius.
Instinctively sensing a similarly
lonely, misunderstood and vulnerable spirit, Darius’ approach — as Kenneth
stacks soup cans in the store where he works — is a masterpiece of sharp
dialogue and sloe-eyed inscrutability. It may be one of cinema’s best-ever
“meet cute” scenes, and it merely amplifies the trust we’ve already placed in
Connolly’s storyline.
We may not know where the heck
this tale is going, but we definitely
want to be along for the ride.
Jeff, as it happens, doesn’t mind
letting Darius take point on this assignment; he has other plans for their time
in Ocean View. He has tracked a long-ago high school crush to this town, and is
determined to re-connect with her. Or maybe not. When Jeff finally spots Liz
(Jenica Bergere), he’s dismayed by how, ah, zaftig,
she has become.
Darius, meanwhile, works hard at
gaining Kenneth’s trust: a process that involves practice with pistol
marksmanship and “covert” combat training. But for all Kenneth’s obvious earnestness,
these boot camp sessions aren’t quite real; they’re more what might be
envisioned by a reclusive guy who spends too much time reading survivalist
magazines.
Darius knows this; she’s actually
quite intelligent, although she takes pains to hide it. But she can’t help
falling under the spell of Kenneth’s heartfelt sincerity; he truly, genuinely
believes in his preposterous “mission,” details of which he continues to
withhold from Darius, until he’s certain that she’s worthy of his trust.
Which, of course, she really
isn’t. Except that she is.
Kenneth, it turns out, is the
personification of that old adage: Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean
they’re not out to get you.
Although the film gets its
momentum from the unfolding mystery — how much time will pass, before Darius
reluctantly learns enough to realize that Kenneth is truly bonkers? — we’re
captivated throughout by the characters themselves, and the ways in which they
interact.
Plaza turns Darius into a young
woman who almost isn’t there: forever concealed behind rumpled, unflattering
clothes and dark eye-liner, as if she’s unwilling to let the merest breath of
her actual self be exposed for the disappointment and ridicule of long
experience.
“I expect the worst and try not
to get my hopes up,” she confesses, early on; it’s both a bitter aside and an
acknowledgment of vulnerability.
And yet, raging insecurities
notwithstanding, Darius is the most vibrant presence in this story; Plaza
imbues her with spirit, self-mocking awareness and a level of sensitivity
wholly alien to a superficial jerk like Jeff. And, yes, Plaza gets the maximum
mileage from every one of Connolly’s droll and sharply observed lines.
Duplass, perhaps recognized from
TV’s The League, walks a fascinating line; he gives Kenneth both a sweet,
fragile innocence and a wary, off-center element of danger. Kenneth’s plans,
precautions and bizarre behavior make the guy one short step removed from the
wingnuts who stand on street corners, aluminum foil covering their heads, and
rattle on about alien waves from outer space.
All this notwithstanding, Duplass
never turns Kenneth into a figure of ridicule; he somehow maintains an aura of
sweetness and tantalizing mystery, rather than menace.
Johnson, part of the ensemble on TV’s New Girl, does interesting things with Jeff. We’re inclined to dismiss him as
a heartless jerk, and yet that’s not entirely the case. Jeff does have
feelings; he’s simply not adept at recognizing them, or properly acting on
them. Except sometimes, as when he takes an active interest in boosting Arnau’s
hopeless social skills.
Soni is a quiet hoot in his own
right: a bespectacled science nerd given to hilarious (and accurate)
observations, such as the notion that Star Wars stormtroopers are blue-collar
workers. At first too timid to register much of a personality, Arnau eventually
blossoms in his own droll way.
Bergere is spot-on as the
voluptuously earthy Liz, whose eventual reunion with Jeff feels so genuine that
it hurts. Jeff Garlin makes the most of an eyeblink cameo as Darius’ father,
and Kristin Bell — forever and always TV’s Veronica Mars — pops up as ...
actually, I’m not going to tell you. But Bell’s presence proves pivotal.
Indeed, that’s the major thing
about this film: As was the case with The Truman Show, you’re better off
knowing as little as possible ... which should become difficult, once folks
start spreading the word. Safety Not Guaranteed is one of those delightful
little surprises we all hope for, as the lights go down and we settle back into
our movie theater chairs.
See it quickly, the better to
enjoy the unexpected pleasures of Connolly’s wonderfully wry script.
No comments:
Post a Comment