Celeste and Jesse Forever: Love lies bleeding

Celeste and Jesse Forever (2012) • View trailer
3.5 stars. Rating: R, for profanity, drug use and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.31.12

If art truly imitates life, then — based on the evidence of recent films such as this one, Lola Versus and Ruby Sparks — today’s self-absorbed thirtysomethings haven’t the faintest idea how to embrace and sustain a relationship.

Celeste (Rashida Jones) insists — to anybody willing to listen — that
she wants only the best for ex-hubbie Jesse (Andy Samberg). The
truth, though, is that their separation is strictly on her terms ... and
that little detail is about to get them both in trouble.

At first blush, however, the opposite seems true of the title characters in Celeste and Jesse Forever ... and that’s the clever twist in this arch and perceptive script from Rashida Jones and Will McCormack.

Celeste (Jones) and Jesse (Andy Samberg) are introduced on what seems an average day. They’re bubbly, effervescent and completely at ease with each other. They enjoy many of the same artful pursuits, while cheerfully tolerating each other’s varying tastes. They finish sentences together, dissect restaurant menus in mock German accents, and share little physical rituals, from air-hugs to hilariously vulgar acts with tubes of lip gloss.

In a word, they’re cute enough to be cloying.

Unfortunately, they aren’t a couple. At least ... not really.

Indeed, they’re long separated and in the final stages of divorce. But an inability to stay married hasn’t damaged their friendship, although this dichotomy falls outside the bounds of comfort for their respective best friends, Beth (Ari Graynor) and Tucker (Eric Christian Olsen), coincidentally engaged and soon to be wed.

We deduce that Celeste and Jesse once were perfectly matched, during the younger days that led to their own wedded bliss. But Celeste has matured beyond the giddy rush of carefree twentysomethingness; she has become the ambitious, workaholic co-owner of her own media consulting firm. She’s also a frequently quoted “trend analyzer” and the author of a book on same, provocatively titled Shitegeist.

The passive Jesse, alternatively, prefers the lackadaisical existence of an artist. He’ll blow off deadlines — even on projects for Celeste — in order to watch TV or get stoned with good buddy Skillz (McCormack), a casual pot dealer who is quite vexed by the medical marijuana clinics that are interfering with his business model.

When Beth confronts her best friend and wonders aloud, for the umpteenth time, why she and Jesse don’t get back together, Celeste rather waspishly replies that she can’t spend her life with a guy who won’t even get a checking account.

“The father of my child,” she insists, “will own a car.”

It’s a droll line, one of many in this frequently witty script. But Celeste’s facility for disdainful zingers is a defense mechanism: one that eventually fails to conceal the arrogance of a condescending control freak.

What's Your Number: Close to zero

What's Your Number? (2011) • View trailer for What's Your Number?
1.5 stars. Rating: R, for profanity, vulgar humor, sexual candor and fleeting nudity
By Derrick Bang


The one bright spot in last year’s otherwise atrocious Dinner for Schmucks was the main character’s hobby of creating adorable little “mouseterpiece” dioramas.

The one bright spot in this week’s otherwise atrocious What’s Your Number is the main character’s hobby of creating adorable little “clay people” dioramas.

Ally (Anna Faris) can't believe how easily Colin (Chris Evans)
is able to track down some of her ex-boyfriends. You won't
believe how little is made of this story premise, or how badly
this 106-minute misfire needs to be shorteneed. To perhaps
25 minutes.

I’ve no idea what this proves, except that perhaps the producers of vulgar, numbnuts comedies might consider basing an entire movie on the figures in little dioramas. I’m pretty sure they’d wind up with better films.

What’s Your Number is the most recent example of what will, lamentably, become a trend for the next few years: sex comedies featuring potty-mouthed women. In the wake of the $281 million scooped up by Bridesmaids — on an initial budget of only $32.5 million — we’re simply doomed. Hollywood doesn’t ignore returns like that.

Meanwhile, we have What’s Your Number as a wincing example of star Anna Faris’ misuse of her 15 minutes of fame. She rose through the ranks as a supporting player in the Scary Movie franchise — fitful spoofs of the already spoof-laden Scream series — and delivered some acceptable television work in Friends and Entourage before breaking out in 2007’s rather deplorable The House Bunny.

Despite being a stinker, that flick pulled in $70 million. These days, careers are based on much less.

Since then, Faris has lent her voice to a pair of animated hits — Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel — and starred in three flicks that came and went so quickly, you can be forgiven for wondering if they ever saw release: Frequently Asked Questions About Time Travel, Observe and Report and Take Me Home Tonight. All were bombs, and she contributed her fair share of the carnage.

The plain, hard truth is that Faris isn’t very talented. Her “acting” is forced, stiff and clumsy, her body language sub-par summer stock, her voice somewhere between shrill and braying. She has no comedic timing whatsoever: rather ironic, given her work thus far. Her one asset is a rockin’ little bod that was made for sex, which she shrewdly refuses to bare completely; she does, at least, recognize the allure of the provocative tease.

If only director Mark Mylod and the writers of this mess understood such restraint.

What’s Your Number is scripted by Gabrielle Allan and Jennifer Crittenden, both veterans of TV sitcoms such as Jesse, Scrubs, Everybody Loves Raymond and Arrested Development. Apparently not content with the constrained environment of network TV, they’ve teamed here to adapted Karyn Bosnak’s novel, 20 Times a Lady, a sharp-edged chick-lit entry from the Candace Bushnell Sex and the City school.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist: Play this baby!

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist (2008) • View trailer for Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG-13, and rather generously, for profanity, sexual content, drinking and other bad behavior by teens
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 10.2.08
Buy DVD: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist • Buy Blu-Ray: Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist (+ BD Live) [Blu-ray]


Hollywood, forever trying to cannibalize past triumphs, often thinks this way:

In order to generate another teen-oriented hit, pair the hot young male lead (Michael Cera) from last year's Juno with the up-and-coming young female lead (Kat Dennings) from February's Charlie Bartlett — both of which were public and critical, teen-oriented successes — and voila ... another picture certain to draw that prized youthful demographic.

After Caroline (Ari Graynor, center) lives down to expectations by having way
too much to drink, it appears as though Nick (Michael Cera) and Norah (Kat
Dennings) won't have a chance to get to know each other after all. Fortunately,
Nick's friends ride to the rescue, although the results of their good intentions
turn the evening into an odyssey of Homeric proportions.

Sadly, that often isn't a winning recipe.

Happily, it is this time.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist is a charming, often hilarious and occasionally poignant misfit romantic comedy set in New York's world of late-night living and very loud live music. Toss in just enough gross-out comedy to leave an impression without becoming tiresome, and the result is as lively and engaging as the mix-CDs produced by Cera's woebegone Nick.

The poor guy can't get over being dumped by his shallow ex-girlfriend, Tris (Alexis Dziena), and has taken "mental health days" away from high school in order to hibernate in his New Jersey bedroom while making a seemingly endless stream of mix-CDs to "commemorate" their break-up. These are ignored by Tris, who tosses each into the trash without a second glance ... an act of casual spitefulness that horrifies Norah (Dennings), who with best gal-pal Caroline (Ari Graynor) tolerates Tris as a frenemy.

One wonders why. The oh-so-hot Tris is a self-absorbed little witch who misses no opportunity to bad-mouth the plainer and quieter Norah, going so far as to suggest that Norah wouldn't even have any friends, were it not for her high-profile family connections (a secret left unrevealed for awhile).

Truth be told, Norah's too inherently kind to rip Tris' eyes out, particularly with good-time Caroline acting as peacemaker.

Besides, hanging out with Tris maintains Norah's access to these mix-CDs, which she adores; they seem to reflect the heart and mind of an unknown somebody who seems her ideal musical soulmate.

On this particular day, Nick is dragged away from self- indulgent moping by best buds and band mates Dev (Rafi Gavron) and Thom (Aaron Yoo) for a gig that night in the city. As the only straight member of The Jerk-Offs, Nick is something of an anomaly, but he certainly knows his music. And, reluctantly, he agrees to go.

The performance goes well enough, although it ends badly when Nick spots Tris in the audience with a new guy in tow. For her part, Tris has been hassling Norah over her apparently lack of a date (true), which she "proves" wrong by throwing her arms around the first halfway palatable guy she spots and giving him a wet one.