For a film loaded with many laughs, it’s strange that Joshy begins on quite the morbid note. Joshy (Silicon Valley’s Thomas Middleditch) arrives home one day to find his fiancé (Alison Brie) lifeless on the floor, dead from an apparent suicide. But the film doesn’t dwell on her death for very long, instead jumping ahead four months when Joshy’s small crew of friends (Nick Kroll, Adam Pally, Alex Ross Perry, and Brett Gelman) elect to celebrate his bachelor party, just as they had intended before the incident occurred. When the boys arrive at their secluded cabin for the party, they discover Joshy saying goodbye to a girl he picked up from the local bar—a rather uncharacteristic move and one that isn’t ever addressed again. Other than this small inexplicable moment, the rest of the film plays out as a hysterical weekend bender of heavy drinking, drug consumption, and partying with hookers. In theory it’s a classic recipe for a “what could possibly go wrong?” scenario, but, oddly enough, the answer in Joshy is nothing.

Credit the amazing cast for making Joshy work as well as it does. Without them, it’s just another hangout movie with a paper-thin plot and very little character development. Granted, simply putting these hilarious actors together in a room would make for entertainment. Each character’s personality puzzle-pieces into the group as a whole. Kroll is the partier. Pally is the sensitive married guy. Perry is the geek. Gelman is the wildcard. And then there’s Middleditch, who’s stuck playing the uninteresting title character—ironically, the least developed of the bunch. There’s also a random appearance by Joe Swanberg (and his real family), who seem only to show up to get a few laughs.

Luckily, there’s enough humor found in sophomore director Jeff Baena’s (Life After Beth) film that it’s easy to forgive some of the off moments. The highlight of Joshy is watching Perry finally getting his wish to play a complicated board game with the group. That’s right, this ensemble even finds a way to make the struggle to play a board game amusing to watch.

Rating:
7/10

It takes less than a minute for Addicted to Fresno to state its intentions. This is a story about sisters, but it’s not one about sisterly love. Instead, it’s a story about how sisters “sink each other,” and the image of one of the main characters in a prisoner’s outfit means things aren’t going to go well for at least one of these women. Yet Addicted to Fresno, Jamie Babbit’s (But I’m a Cheerleader) latest dark comedy, isn’t about a sisterly relationship falling apart. It’s more about the impact a poisonous family relationship can have, and how sibling support can harm and help both parties. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here. Addicted to Fresno is, first and foremost, a very silly and sometimes mean-spirited comedy that can get a little too goofy for its own good.

After the brief tease at its beginning, the film flashes back to two years earlier when Shannon (Judy Greer) starts her life over after getting out of sex rehab. Her sister Martha (Natasha Lyonne, whose reunion with Babbit will hopefully continue from here on out), a hotel maid, gets Shannon a job so they can work together. Ever since their parents died Martha feels obligated to take care of Shannon, and it’s implied that this isn’t the first time she’s bailed her sister out of a bad situation. Shannon meanwhile is an obnoxiously sardonic type, complaining about how terrible life in Fresno is and taking no responsibility for her faults. Martha’s in the midst of a sort-of-breakup with a girl at her gym, and Shannon is covering up that she was in fact kicked out of sex rehab for sleeping with her therapist (Ron Livingston).

It takes almost no time for Shannon and Martha to fall into a routine of arguing with one other, but this time Shannon screws up significantly. Martha catches her sleeping with a disgusting hotel guest (Jon Daly, a sleazy highlight for his brief time on-screen), and in the ensuing scuffle he winds up dead. In an attempt to appease her sister, Shannon claims she was being raped but insists they don’t call the cops since as a sex addict they aren’t likely to believe her. Martha agrees to help dispose of the body, leading to a failed attempt to convince a couple pet cemetery owners (Fred Armisen & Allison Tolman) that they want to cremate a really big dog. The owners, desperate for cash, blackmail Shannon & Martha into giving them $25,000 in three days or else they go to the police.

Babbit attempts to make a sort of madcap, screwball comedy out of the entire situation, with Shannon and Martha carting their corpse around the city in a bin while resorting to desperate measures for cash. The whole thing feels frantic; within a short span of time the film wildly veers from a botched heist to a cheap “kickass” montage to a dramatic fight, and the constant changes in tone are jarring. It also doesn’t help that Karey Dornetto’s screenplay seems inclined to pick up and throw away character or story beats without any sense of purpose or resolution. A second heist attempt is thrown in and then tapers off, while the revolving door of supporting characters (including Molly Shannon, Jessica St. Clair, and Aubrey Plaza to name a few) provide light laughs, but make little to no impact. A teen’s attempt to launch his hip-hop career at his bar mitzvah is among the basest of the jokes presented.

But Addicted to Fresno is a funny film, for the most part, largely due to its game cast. Lyonne and Greer are both brilliantly cast against type here, with Lyonne taking the role of the cheery optimist and Greer diving into the chance to play a morose, bitchy character. Their performances wind up becoming the saving grace of the film since their wide range and great chemistry together sells the more sincere and dramatic moments in the final act. The ensemble does most of the film’s heavy lifting, since the unevenness of the script impacts Babbit’s direction as well (it’s surprising to see how lackluster her direction can be at times, considering her excellent work on television over the years). The sisterly bond at the center winds up resonating the most, but it seems problematic when the most memorable parts of a comedy are the unfunny parts.

Addicted to Fresno is available via VOD platforms September 1 and in theaters October 2, 2015.

The third and final installment of Hal Hartley’s Henry Fool saga sees Ned Rifle (Liam Aiken), son of Henry (Thomas Jay Ryan) and Fay Grim (Parker Posey), on a quest to find and kill his father for ruining his mother’s life. Returning to this desert-dry whimsical world of misfits, along with Ryan, Posey, and Aiken, is James Urbaniak as garbage-man-turned-poet-laureate Simon Grim, who steals every scene he’s in with his succinct and deadliest deadpan delivery of Hartley’s epigrammatic dialogue. Ned Rifle picks up four years after the events of Fay Grim, during which Ned has found God while living with a devoutly Christian family, Fay has been incarcerated for life without parole, and Henry has, well, revealing where he’s been surely counts as a spoiler, but thirsty fans of the trilogy will feel quenched. The newcomer to the familiar ensemble is Parks and Recreation‘s Aubrey Plaza. She not only radiates intelligence without speaking a word and then blasts everyone away with it when she does, but, by the film’s halfway mark, twists that same world around her little finger with her feral screen presence. A package of talent that Hartley earnestly exploits. She plays Susan, a woman who is stalking Simon for her own reasons (which, naturally, revolve around Henry).

The greatest compliment one can give Ned Rifle is that even those who’ve never seen Henry Fool or Fay Grim will be stimulated enough to sympathize and laugh with—and sometimes at—Hartley’s egomaniacal troupe of characters. “Don’t be taken,” says a doctor at one point, “he’s a great tragic actor.” A sentiment that applies to practically everyone in the entire film except Ned, who instills a sense of righteousness (even if it so easily invites mockery) much needed to complete the saga. That said, one gets the sense that Ned Rifle‘s hurried conclusion will leave those who haven’t seen the previous two films slightly gutted. Nothing but a minor quibble, however, given everything that came before. With its droll highbrow vocabulary, cozy half-serious tone, and finger-snapping running time, Ned Rifle invites people to seek out all things related to the impressionable degenerate that is Henry Fool, and triumphantly concludes a fun-loving trilogy.

While zombie movies can be traced back to the 1930s, the modern zombie film era is generally accepted to have begun with George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968). Since then, the zombie movie has been a staple at the cinema and at home, with offerings ranging from the totally ’80s classic Night of the Comet to the biggest box office zombie flick yet, World War Z. Because there are only so many ways to serve up brains, and with TV’s The Walking Dead doing an excellent job of that on a regular basis, filmmakers are taking unique approaches to zombies and treating them as characters, not just mindless threats. Now we have tales of zombie romance such as the latest zombie movie to hit theaters, Life After Beth.

Zach Orfman (Dane DeHaan) is a devastated teen. His girlfriend, Beth Slocum (Aubrey Plaza), has died, and not long after the couple’s last discussion revolved around ending their relationship. In the days after her funeral, the young man clings to Beth’s memory and spends as much time with her parents as he can. He grows suspicious, however, when the Slocums (John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon) stop returning his calls. A visit to their house – where they pretend not to be home – reveals the truth behind their sudden secrecy: Beth is alive.

Well, sort of.

Beth is a zombie, only she doesn’t realize it. (Her parents see her as being resurrected.) As she and Zach rekindle their romance, Beth slowly deteriorates in both body and mind.

Life After Beth’s premise tantalizes before the film even fades in. Despite what feels like market saturation, zombies are still all the rage. The film’s plot (my dead girlfriend doesn’t know she’s dead) is a clever one. The leads are talented, good-looking, and popular. The supporting cast is terrific (including Paul Reiser and Cheryl Hines as Zach’s parents), with decades of cumulative comedic acting experience among them. This is a film that is aching to succeed.

Unfortunately the film’s concept works better on paper than it does as a movie. Life After Beth‘s fatal flaw is that there is little to the story beyond the clever premise.

Writer/director Jeff Baena spends the first act of the film slogging through a set-up that includes creating a contrived conflict between Zach and Beth’s parents. Time is also wasted establishing Zach’s own parents, with their yelling and their disbelief and their short attention spans, as adults from a bad sitcom. Never does Baena show Beth’s death, her “resurrection,” or her triumphant return home. It’s mentioned, not shown.

The middle of the film is nothing more than a series of sketches, each as unfunny as the one before it, and only made different by Beth’s continued deteriorating physical and mental condition. There is, also, the introduction of a girl from Zach’s childhood, Erica Wexler (Anna Kendrick), inserted (I guess) to offer a future for Zach once Beth goes Full Zombie. It’s an inserted idea yet not well-developed; another great talent wasted.

The third act is perhaps the most baffling aspect of the entire film. I don’t want to spoil anything by revealing details, however the path the story takes seems to occur out of the blue as a device used to help bear the weight of the film’s non-full length structure and is highly frustrating. This third act surprise could have been nicely developed early, and then followed throughout the film as a meaty subplot.  Instead, it’s triggered as an escape hatch to bring the film to a preposterous conclusion.

It’s hard to fault anyone in the cast for their work, because no one is given much to work with in the first place. As noted, Reiser and Hines have a sitcom sensibility to them, as does Shannon. Reilly is only slightly elevated because he’s given more relevant dialogue than the rest of the grown-ups. Plaza does fine descending from hapless to mindless. Honestly, there isn’t an MVP performance in the bunch.

Everyone should walk away from this unscathed, but it will be curious to see how DeHaan’s career is affected. In Life After Beth, he’s pale and he broods and stumbles about in a disbelieving haze, none of which is memorable. However, this is his second subpar outing in 2014 (following the terrible The Amazing Spider-Man 2), so 2015 might be pivotal for the young actor. He has a period piece (Tulip Fever) coming out, but more importantly, he is playing James Dean in Anton Corbijn’s Life, a role that might be make-or-break for him.

The zombie genre will (un)live on beyond Life After Beth, a film that feels like a Halloween entry of a Saturday Night Live routine that may have been funny in a short sketch, but can’t survive being stretched out over 90 minutes.

Life After Beth trailer

About Alex is very much a film of its time. For starters, the film is occasionally hyper-aware, in the Chris Miller-Phil Lord vein, of its architecture as a film imbued with tropes. The film also feels like a clichéd indie where characters gather together and reveal secrets and grievances. But what truly makes About Alex a film of its moment is its intense but clumsy interest in the way recent cultural changes such as the Internet and social media have altered relationships of Millennials.

As noted through casual meta-jokes, About Alex is essentially The Big Chill for a new era: a group of college friends spend a weekend together rehashing the past after one of their own attempts suicide. The meta-ness ends at the passing references to the film’s familiarity though (“This is like one of those ’80s movies,” one person says at one point). From there on out, About Alex falls into the traps associated with its subgenre. Jesse Zwick’s script (Zwick also directed) is laboriously constructed to the point where the summer home the gang goes to feels like it has more personality and well-worn history.

Alex (Jason Ritter) has fallen out of touch with his friends, and it has heightened his depression, causing him to attempt suicide. In a lifeless montage, his old friends receive the news. Journalist Ben has failed to write a book and dodging Alex’s calls. Ben is dating Siri (Maggie Grace; yes, there are, indeed, iPhone jokes made), who fears she might be late. Overworked lawyer Sarah (Aubrey Plaza) still can’t resist the douchey charms of brash PhD candidate and resident truth teller Josh (Max Greenfield, in the meatiest and funniest role). However, Sarah secretly still pines for straight shooting financier Isaac, who brings along a much younger plus one (Jane Levy) to the event.

This is a lot of information to set up but as overwrought as it is, Zwick does a good job of managing it fleetly and quickly. After its belabored introduction, the film settles into a more comfortable, but still far too affected, rhythm. About Alex feels worked over, and this strains its ability to feel natural and lived in. The conflicts are seen from a mile off, and they tend to resolve themselves exactly as one might expect them to – writer’s block ends, quarreling couples make up, etc. At a certain point, the revelations stop feeling like revelations and begin to feel like carefully doled out dramatic beats. As if what the film was trying to say were not spelled out clearly enough, Ben provides a voice-over in two separate instances to lay out the film’s themes and messages. The blandness and familiarity of the story is matched with a drab cinematographic scheme, shot by Andre Lascaris. Lascaris emphasizes muted, autumnal colors, which only adds to the film’s sense of lifelessness.

And yet, when the action lacks a feeling for spontaneity or the dialogue begins to sound too much like dialogue (as it all too often does), the film is saved by its likable, strong cast. The film gives the faintest impressions of why these individuals would have become friends and why they would enjoy one another’s company. In its best moments, the film nicely provides us with the desire to hang out with these people, to get drunk and stoned, and swap jokes and stories. A number of these actors have done some fine work in television (Plaza on Parks and Recreation, Greenfield on New Girl, Levy on Suburgatory) a medium far better suited to low-key hang outs where we learn to like and understand a large group of people. The performer’s easygoing chemistry and the general likability of all involved only gives a glimmer of why we should care. But the characterization and plotting is so thin and dull that it’s still hard to get invested.

There is promise and occasional kernels of wisdom buried in About Alex. But it’s lost in execution. As a Millennial, I have a larger stake in the cultural dialogue of my generation. The claims of solipsism lobbed at us will not be alleviated by a film like About Alex. These are narcissistic, selfish people who turn the well-being of one friend into an excuse to make everything all about themselves. Unlike The Big Chill’s characters, who had been out of college for many years, these characters are just a brief five years removed. Their nostalgia, crises, and bitterness feel a little too unearned. Unlike another Millennial-marked work, television series Girls — which is about the self-entitlement and delusion of people in their twenties — About Alex has no real interest in showing its characters’ actions and behaviors as wrong-footed or dissecting its characters to better understand their psychology.

At one point, in a terribly written scene, Josh tells everyone that his dissertation is on the way texts, emails, etc. are shaping our lives and will become biographical information for history. It’s the film’s clumsiest scene, revealing the gap between the film’s ambitions and what it actually accomplishing. At a number of points, About Alex notes the way we’re more connected and in touch due to social media but how that’s a poor substitute for actual social interaction and connection. It’s not a bad observation, it’s even one that would be interesting to explore further. But the film has such a poor handle on the inherent realities of this new media age that it feels glib and shallow.

However, the film is’t entirely shallow. For instance, when Zwick forces characters to confront Alex’s suicide, the film finds some emotionally authentic moments. When About Alex’s characters remember to not be characters in an indie dramedy, the slow dissolution of their friendships are relatable, if no less contrived.

Way Too Indie is celebrating the recent Blu-ray and DVD release (Nov. 17th) of the raunchy throwback comedy film, The To Do List, which stars Aubrey Plaza, Rachel Bilson, Andy Samberg, and Bill Harder, by traveling back in time and giving one lucky reader a 90s themed prize package. This rockin’ package includes; a Surprise and Delight Caboodle stocked with a pearl necklace, a cheetah-print notebook, a gel pen, snap bracelets, a lifeguard lanyard, a scrunchy, a copy of the soundtrack and a Blu-ray of the film!

How Do You Enter The Giveaway?

To enter just tell us what your favorite part about the 90s was in the comments below!

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The To Do List trailer

Mark Webber’s sophomore effort as a director, The End of Love, follows a jobless single-father who is struggling to make ends meet while caring for his son. The film feels incredibly personal to Webber as nearly everyone in the cast goes by their real name and his son in the film is played be his actual child. It is the type of film that we come to expect out of Sundance Film Festival, a realistic portrait of an aspiring artist with an attempt to tug at your heartstrings. Although it does not venture far from that “Sundance formula”, The End of Love stands out above the rest because of the spectacular acting performances between the father and son.

Mark (Mark Webber), clearly exhausted, pleads with his two-year-old son Isaac (Isaac Love) to go back to sleep for just five more minutes. Because Mark is a single-father and can barely make his rent payments, paying for daycare every day is out of the question. Therefore, Mark is forced to bring Isaac along everywhere he goes, including his acting auditions that turn disastrous because of it. With his roommates on his back about paying rent, life delivers a knockout punch when his car is towed, setting him back half a grand.

Just as things could not get any worse for the struggling father and adorable son, a bone is thrown in their direction. Mark ends up meeting a lovely woman (Shannyn Sossamon) who is not only a single parent herself, but runs an indoor playground for children. You can tell his dating skills are rusty when she must make all the first moves, but the real kicker is when he tries to advance the relationship on the first date. This is painful to witness because you cannot help but feel remorse for him. And it is not the last time he makes the mistake.

Without question what makes The End of Love so moving is the empathy we feel for Mark and Isaac. The dynamic between the two is incredibly intimate because they are actually father and son in real life. This means the youngster did not need to recite lines and had the freedom to be his natural youthful self. Results of this improvised approach pays dividends in the long run by making the whole production seem exceptionally realistic.

Serving as a great contrast to the broke wannabe actor are the onslaught of cameos made by Amanda Seyfried, Jason Ritter, Aubrey Plaza, Jake Johnson, and Michael Cera, all basically playing themselves as highly successful people in Hollywood. The unfortunate part is their success in the field gives Mark false illusions that he is close to achieving the same. But this is not a pity party for Webber’s character. The ratio between the audience feeling bad for him and despising him for doing something irresponsible is close to a one to one match.

Perhaps even worse than an ending that is wholly upbeat or devastatingly depressing is one that takes the middle of the road, and unfortunately that is where The End of Love lands. There is a sense that the lead character is finally coming to terms with his wife’s passing, but leaves enough unanswered to make the audience neither cheer nor weep. Unlike the rest of the film where emotions are heightened, the ending is much more complacent. In the grand scheme of it all, this is a fairly minor quibble in an otherwise notable character study about coming to terms with difficult situations.

Safety Not Guaranteed thankfully takes its science fiction framework and keeps it in the background, instead putting the focus on its characters and how they grow over the film’s short running time. For the most part the movie gets by on its low-key charm, with two good central performances but the sitcom-like structure drives a giant wedge into the film’s stronger qualities.

A recent college graduate working as an unpaid intern at Seattle Magazine, Darius (Aubrey Plaza) is anti-social and mostly miserable. When Jeff (Jake Johnson), one of the magazine’s writers, takes on a story about an ad looking for a partner to travel back in time with, Darius leaps at the opportunity to work on it. The writer takes Darius along with Arnau (Karan Soni), a nerdy intern who hasn’t been with a woman yet. Darius and Arnau soon find the man who wrote the ad, an awkward grocery store worker named Kenneth (Mark Duplass) who believes he’s being followed and recorded at all times. Darius convinces Kenneth to let her be his time travelling partner, while Jeff tries to get back with his high school sweetheart and Arnau begins to come out of his shell. As Darius gets more involved with Kenneth she starts to fall for him while thinking that he might actually be able to travel back in time.

Plaza and Duplass play slight variations on the kind of roles that they’ve been specializing in over the years. Duplass throws plenty of weirdness on his role as a paranoid outcast, while Plaza brings her character from Parks and Recreation down several hundred notches to something resembling reality. Duplass is terrific at balancing Kenneth’s quirks with the emotional pain his character hides, and Plaza’s greatest strength is the way she gets people to like her without coming across like she’s trying. Their first meeting at the grocery store Kenneth works at is truly enjoyable, showing off their terrific chemistry which is the film’s greatest asset.

Unfortunately Plaza/Duplass’ time is shared with the two subplots involving Jeff and Arnau. Both of the characters’ stories are predictable, and they feel so separate from the main action that at times it feels like they’re in a different film altogether. It also doesn’t help that Jeff’s vain, womanizing qualities make him unlikable while Karan Soni portrays Arnau so broadly that he doesn’t feel like a real person. Each time the film switches its focus to these two it grinds things to a halt.

Luckily the story between Darius and Kenneth is exciting enough to carry things through to the end. The ambiguity over whether or not Kenneth is a genius or a nut is responsible for most of the film’s momentum, and writer Derek Connelly manages to give a definitive answer with a surprisingly satisfying ending. The film’s two subplots feel more like padding which suggests that the time travel story might have been too weak to turn into a feature on its own, but Plaza and Duplass really make the material work. If you can get past the flaws, Safety Not Guaranteed will make for a short but pleasant time.

Winner of the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at Sundance this year at the Sundance Film Festival was the indie comedy Safety Not Guaranteed. From the producers of Little Miss Sunshine comes a story about how far believing in something can take you. Safety Not Guaranteed stars Aubrey Plaza, Mark Duplass, Jake Johnson, and Karan Soni.

The film is about three people from a Seattle magazine look to cover a story about a man who believes his can time travel. They respond to his classified ad he put in looking for someone to go back in time with him. The ad states that the person’s safety would not be guaranteed since he has only done this once before.

Safety Not Guaranteed official trailer: