‘The Good Half’ Review: Nick Jonas Leads a Timid and Awkward Exploration of Familial Grief

As a cinephile who has traversed through countless dramedies, I must admit that “The Good Half” feels like a familiar melody played on a slightly off-key piano. It’s not that grief is an uncommon theme; it’s that the film fails to strike its own unique chord amidst the harmonious symphony of similar movies that have come before it.

In the story of Robert Schwartzman’s film “The Good Half,” we find a quiet individual, burdened by past childhood struggles, who journeys back to his roots for a parent’s funeral. This narrative pattern is not only central to this heartfelt movie, but it also serves as a common base for numerous introspective American comedies-dramas, such as “Elizabethtown,” “Garden State,” and “This Is Where I Leave You.”

Identifying this recurring theme isn’t always meant to criticize one of cinema’s beloved subjects – familial grief is indeed one of the most universal and empathetic human sorrows. Movies, after all, often reflect our shared experiences. However, when you enter a film like “The Good Half”, you expect it to offer unique insights into the agony of loss. Sadly, it seems more like a compilation of similar (often superior) films that preceded it in this genre.

In the movie “The Good Half,” the story initially conveys a sense of fear similar to what C.S. Lewis described in his book “A Grief Observed” published in 1961, where he expressed that grief feels like fear. The film opens with young Renn Wheeland (Mason Cufari) and his peculiar mother Lily (Elisabeth Shue, delivering her best performance despite the underwritten role), as she consoles Renn after forgetting him at a shopping mall. In the parking lot, she vows never to leave him in a store again. However, Renn seeks more assurance. “You’ll never leave me? One hundred percent?” he nervously asks, without realizing that his mother is making a promise she knows she won’t be able to keep for good.

In a few decades, the character Renn, portrayed as a distant and lethargic figure similar to Nick Jonas, finally receives the long-awaited call he had dreaded all his life from his sobbing sister: “She’s gone.” As Renn makes his way through the airport to return to Cleveland, a series of voicemails reveal his current state. He is a writer living in L.A., stuck in a job he dislikes but somehow getting a promotion. His sister Leigh (Brittany Snow in an excellent performance, though underutilized by the film) needs his help due to recent events. His father Darren (Matt Walsh) also has his own issues. During the flight, Zoey (the charming Alexandra Shipp of “Barbie”), a therapist who seems to appear like Kirsten Dunst in “Elizabethtown,” enters the story. With her quick wit and ability to quote action movie lines from the ’80s and ’90s, Zoey brings a positive vibe to the film. However, her character feels like a collection of cliches without much depth. Nevertheless, she becomes a comforting presence for Renn as he deals with his complex family issues.

The familial squabbles appear quite ordinary as well. Beyond Renn’s dominating and burdened sister Leigh, portrayed by Snow with a strong edge, there’s Lily’s annoying second husband Rick (David Arquette). Additionally, there are awkward moments at funeral homes, heartfelt conversations at local bars, and so forth. Schwartzman and screenwriter Brett Ryland interweave these contemporary scenes with flashbacks to delve deeper into Lily’s character. However, despite Shue’s valiant attempts, the movie fails to effectively show what sets Lily apart. These brief time jumps reveal the progression of Lily’s terminal illness and occasionally highlight her amusing eccentricities as a harmless kleptomaniac (occasionally stealing items like a teaspoon from a restaurant). Regrettably, in its clumsy attempts to find humor in these memories, the movie overlooks the film’s potential for exploring deeper themes and character insights.

A relative of Coppola, similar to his brother Jason, and a versatile figure in both film and music (most recognized as the lead singer of Rooney), Schwartzman directs “The Good Half” in an unremarkable, straightforward style that lacks a distinctive personal touch. On the other hand, Jonas appears to lack the acting depth required for his role, which often makes him seem insignificant compared to Shipp and Snow in terms of understated vulnerability.

As a movie enthusiast, I must admit that “The Good Half” occasionally manages to snag my focus with its sprinklings of humor and tender moments featuring side characters. A heartwarming scene between Renn and the clothing store employee, Ryan Bergara, who fondly recalls Lily’s past kindness towards him, is one such instance where I couldn’t help but ponder over what could have been a more profound film. Regrettably, “The Good Half” fails to live up to its potential, leaving me with a sense of disappointment.

2024-08-16 04:16

‘The Good Half’ Review: Nick Jonas Leads a Timid and Awkward Exploration of Familial Grief

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