Review: Cyrus

Cyrus, a film by mumblecore advocates the Duplass brothers, adds to the cinematic wealth of "love triangle" stories. John (John C. Reilly) is a down-and-out divorce still reeling from the loss of his ex-wife (Catherine Keener). At her encouragement, John goes to a party where he embarrasses himself repeatedly before meeting someone, Molly (Marisa Tomei), who seems to understand his "charm." The two seem to be an unlikely pair at first, given the obvious disparity in their tact and physical appearance. However, the match makes more sense as it is slowly revealed that Molly has deep insecurities of her own. The most obvious piece of baggage weighing her down is the continued presence of her 22 year old son Cyrus (Jonah Hill) still living at home. As John and Molly's relationship begins to blossom, tensions arise between the two male characters. I will not delve further into how these tensions play out on the screen, for fear of detracting from their comically and intellectually rewarding nature.

Coming into this film, the jury was still out on Jonah Hill's abilities as an actor and comedian. While he has appeared in humorous films in the past, his characters have largely annoyed more than amused. Keener, Reilly, and Tomei are always solid casting choices, but Hill had to have been a question mark. And yet, it is his performance that stands out and drives the story forward. He is able to portray a range of character traits- quiet yet mouthy, sincere yet devious, loving yet selfish- throughout the film. He does so naturally without resorting to his usual screaming and vulgarity (some still exists, but it is more controlled). Despite his large presence on the screen (no pun intended), it is the subtlety of his performance that makes his character intriguing. If you are looking for the character drawing genitalia on notebooks in Superbad, you will not find him in Cyrus.

Not all of the directorial choices made by the Duplass brothers, however, added to the film. As I mentioned earlier, the Duplasses are well-known for their ties to the mumblecore movement. While this is a hotly debated term in the indie community, it basically refers to the stylistic choice of using hand-held cameras to personalize (often improvised) interactions between characters. Cyrus certainly has scenes that resemble this style, as discussions between Molly and John (or Molly and Cyrus) often feature a blend of disparate dialogue and shaky camera work. Instead of creating a more intimate setting (as the directors intended), this cinematography was more distracting than anything else. In a film that largely avoids outward indie pretension, this element stood out as unnecessarily showy. "Indie cred," it seems, is a strange temptress.

At its core, Cyrus is a film that explores overcoming our inherent insecurities. It's about the innately human drive to be loved and the corresponding depths that people will go to maintain and preserve it. Despite the enormity of these themes, Cyrus is a very straight-forward story. It is this simplicity that makes it worth watching.

Cyrus: 3.5/5