The Descendants

Let me begin by saying that it’s worth watching this movie just to see George Clooney running in flip-flops. It comes after one particularly painful revelation out of the many he’ll endure throughout the movie, and it’s hilarious. The Descendants is full of moments like this, and while they might seem irreverent in light of the circumstances, they’re necessary to take Alexander Payne’s from a sobby quagmire to an honest drama about a family wading through a crisis.

Let’s set the scene: Matt King’s (George Clooney) family are the descendants of Princess Lili’uokalani and the sole owners of one of the last undeveloped land tracts in Hawaii. His wife lies in a coma after a near tragic boating accident. Out of their frustrated marriage is borne two daughters, one a free-spirited but troubled youngster, the other a sassy, sanctimonious teenager. On top of worrying about his wife and daughters, he has a measly week to decide whether or not to sell the land that’s been in his family for generations. Oh, and (spoiler alert) he’s about to find out that his wife was having an affair before her accident.

Sounds like a plotline more beleaguered than The Hours, yet this is when the flip-flop running begins, and it initiates an adventure that, before movie’s end, will rip his family apart and sew it back together again.

I’ve always felt that the best comedies are interspersed with drama, and the best dramas peppered with comedy. At the very least, when the drama gets too heavy or the punch lines start to fizzle, the audience has something different to look forward to. Juno and Steel Magnolias are two such films that knew how to capitalize on the trade-off, and The Descendants could be even better. Consider the scene where Matt goes to tell his in-laws that their daughter is probably not going to come out of the coma. It’s heartbreaking to watch an old man tough as a drill sergeant cry, but then Sid (a kind-hearted doofus along for the ride) makes a wisecrack about his wife and he says, “I’m gonna hit you.” And then he does. Later, after tracking down his wife’s would-be lover, Matt cases out his beach house about as stealthily as Inspector Clouseau from the Pink Panther movies. Oh, and the second act climax has a “Holy crap” moment at the beach house well worth the laughs it gets, but I won’t “kiss and tell.”

That isn’t to say that the film doesn’t take its premise seriously. George Clooney is believable as a man worn down by the weight of his many responsibilities, and Shailene Woodley gives more than a modest performance as his sarcastic but deeply wounded daughter.

No, just as the jokes are there to pull us from the depths of despair, they make the woeful scenes all the more painful. Shailene Woodley actually cries underwater! And just wait until Clooney confronts his wife about the affair! You could say the discussion is “one-sided.”

Now, I’ve heard people who have visited Hawaii say it’s not as picturesque as the movies make it out to be. No free growing gardens, no lush tropical paradise. If that’s true, then relish in the one panoramic shot of the land tract at the center of debate in this movie. It’s absolutely breathtaking, and I want so badly to believe it’s real. No doubt it’s probably some rich fellow’s backyard just outside of Beverly Hills, but I’m going to hold onto this bit of movie magic until someone proves me wrong.

My other pet peeve about the movie is unnecessary voiceovers. Near the beginning of the film, George has a long one where he describes his family in an accurate but painfully overwrought metaphor as “an archipelago, part of the same whole but all different islands.” I’m guessing it looked good on paper, but Hemingway would roll over in his grave to hear it aloud.

Other than that, I found it a hard movie to complain about. I cried. I gasped. I hee-hawed and elbowed Becky in the ribs. And thanks to Alexander Payne’s careful scene construction, I did all of the above exactly when he wanted me to. And I’ll never look at a pair of flip-flops the same way again.

-John

Becky’s (Less than adequate rebuttal)

Apparently, when we went to see this movie I was in a slightly aloof and non-focused enough mood to review this movie with as much precision and gusto as Mr. Vaught. His review was spot-on (now I understand that us bickering over a review is more entertaining for our blog readers, but I must give John mad props, yo!)

This movie is a quite believable and natural rendition of how a family would cope with having to decide a fellow family member’s fate. That quality is what drew me into the movie, and that is also why I think it will win Best Picture on Sunday.

The scenes lack dramatic music and speeches of eternal love; it’s honest in the depiction of watching someone die slowly in a hospital. The surviving characters find themselves laughing one minute and crying the next. What I love about Alexander Payne is his ability to walk his audience through a character’s evolution without force-feeding it with dramatic monologues and brooding stares. He relies on his story and the actors’ ability to bring his characters to life.

Side Note: In my opinion, Shailene Woodley did a lovely and believable job but not good enough to be nominated for Best Supporting Actress. However, George Clooney was amazing. Everything down from his frantic flip-flop run to his interrogation of his wife’s lover with his two daughters and Sid in tow.