Safe and amusing, could be more biting, riskier and rowdier
The Meddler Running time: 1hr 40min Starring: JK Simmons, Rose Byrne, Susan Sarandon Director: Lorene Scafaria IN THE annals of shamelessly invasive movie mothers, The Meddler’s Marnie Minervini (Susan Sarandon) ranks up there. Her overstepping ranges from benign (leaving her 30-ish daughter Lori endless voicemail messages) to inappropriate (checking Lori’s Internet browser history) to verging-on-traitorous (informing Lori’s ex that she’s still in love with him) – but she does it all with the biggest of hearts and best of intentions. Not even Lori (Rose Byrne) ever seems to stay angry.
Writer-director Lorene Scafaria has based her film on experiences with her own mom, and it may wring laughs, winces and perhaps a few tears from viewers who have – or are – doting mothers themselves. But just as many will wish The Meddlerwere more biting, more imaginative, riskier or rowdier. For all its relatability, the movie is safe and sitcomishly amusing rather than sharply funny, hitting the same genial notes over and over instead of building real comic momentum.
Of course, The Meddler is above all a showcase for Sarandon, who, with a Brooklyn accent as broad and uneven as the movie itself, is a pleasure to watch – even if she never seems quite right for the role (she’s far too cool and gorgeous to be anyone’s clingy, embarrassing mom). The film is a crowd-pleaser ideal for motherdaughter movie dates.
When Lori, a screenwriter, leaves for a shoot in New York, she delivers the blow every overinvolved parent dreads: “I think it’s time we set some boundaries.”
So Marnie takes her meddling skills elsewhere, putting them to more transparently altruistic use: she helps a young Apple Store employee (Jerrod Carmichael) study for his exams, fills an old woman’s hospital room with gifts and plans a big fat lesbian wedding for one of Lori’s friends (Cecily Strong). Marnie also strikes up a romance with a sweet retired cop (JK Simmons), whom she meets when she inadvertently wanders onto a movie set.
Scafaria wrote the more selfconsciously quirky Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and here her dialogue ranges from sharp (when Marnie frets that a serial killer is targeting young women, Lori retorts, “Then we’re both safe”) to flat, mostly falling somewhere inbetween. And while her direction is fluid, she doesn’t yet know how to shape a scene or squeeze maximum comic juice out of her ripest ideas. A potentially rich running gag revolving around the fact that Marnie is seeing Lori’s therapist (Amy Landecker) never really goes anywhere, and a promising moment in which Lori turns the tables on Marnie, badgering her about her “new friend”, is cut short almost as soon as it begins. Scafaria is going for twinges of recognition rather than big payoffs or belly laughs, but one sometimes has the feeling she’s holding back – or not trying hard enough to put an original spin on familiar figures and material.
There’s not much to Byrne’s role but pouting and complaining, which she does with her customary skill. This is Sarandon’s show, and the actress succeeds in making Marnie a bit more than a caricature, excelling in the film’s less chatty, more dramatic scenes. – Hollywood Reporter