In The Land Of Women

In the Land of Women is the sort of good intentioned movie that I hate to insult, but just can’t help calling pathetic. Somewhere around the middle of this film, amid one of the many anonymous confessional conversations that happen at random and often in seemingly inappropriate situations, Adam Brody’s Carter Webb (as paltry and insufficient a millennial attempt to recreate Benjamin Braddock as ever there was) talks about how in reading his old love letters to his girlfriend (now ex) he realized that it was the best writing he’d ever done (he's currently slumming as a pornography screenwriter) because they had a naïve, idealistic tone. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with the whole film. Maybe writer/director Jonathan Kasdan truly thought that by being blunt, maudlin, and utterly unimaginative he could make something “honest.” I certainly believe that he had the best intentions. The film seems too personal for him to have sabotaged his own work. It’s just that it handles death, adultery, and numerous other serious issues with an unaffecting, faux sincerity marked further by numerous badly placed attempts at somewhat obscene humor. It’s also packed full of clichés. Every teenager talks in bizarre lingo so densely unnatural that they sound as though they might be mentally handicapped. And that’s far from its worst offense.

The general premise here is that after being dumped by his beautiful actress girlfriend, Carter heads home to care for his ailing grandma and rethink his life. By the way, Olympia Dukakis, as Carter’s uncomprising and vaguely unhinged Grandma is the shining light in this mostly unfunny and contrived film. While he’s dealing with his darling grams, he meets an older woman named Sarah (Meg Ryan) and begins instantly telling her everything there is to know about his life and she hers. Then he meets her daughter, a younger high school girl, and repeats this process. By the end of the movie he’s kissed both women, written one a love letter and I still have no idea if either pair was ever together or how they went from total strangers to near lovers in hardly any time at all. There are so many dumb little moments thrown in that I couldn’t keep track of the soap opera stupid romantic entanglements. Carter kisses the already married Sarah in the rain, she tells him she has cancer, and then suddenly we’re at a kegger and Carter seems to in no way be reacting to what has just happened (seemingly something significant). By the end of the night, he’ll kiss Sarah’s daughter and talk to his ex on the phone with clear intentions of winning her back. Apparently, he’s gaming all the women in Michigan and beyond, and yet he’s supposed to be a sensitive would be serious screenwriter? It just makes no sense. There are honestly moments in this film where I wondered if a scene wasn't somehow missing. It was as though every character was either debilitatingly stupid or simply followed no emotionally consistent progression. They say things that seem clearly out of character and do things that make us wonder what they're thinking. It's not that they're suprising us. They're simply being moronic. Maybe this was editted badly. Maybe it was just not capable of financially affording certain scenes. I have no idea. There is no question that it's badly made, though.

Worst of all is that Ryan’s shrilly performed cancer victim goes through what should be troubling emotional developments (chemo, loss of hair) and yet somehow that’s just a puzzle piece in the jumble of this messed up movie. Her struggle feels so false that it stings with frustration. Making a serious film requires responsibility and integrity. Kasdan’s work has turned real life difficulties into obnoxious trifles full of cutesy dialogue that bleeds their emotional power dry. There are a handful of moments that work here, but they’re stuck in a body of work that just does not deliver its promise of sincere storytelling. Sarah doesn’t just have issues with her daughter. She doesn’t just have cancer. She doesn’t just have a cheating husband. She has everything at once and yet none of it matters because it’s all delivered like a checklist of middle aged woes that make for “good drama.” Had she had a clear arc, or a truer sounding collection of dialogue, we might feel for her, but why bother? The film does not show her the meticulous concern that she deserves and as an audience, we cannot be expected to create feeling out of material that offers none to us.

Grade: D+