YOUNG ADULT
Directed by: Jason Reitman
Written by: Cody Diablo
Starring: Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, Patrick Wilson, Elizabeth Reaser
An overview of Charlize Theron’s post-Oscar run (she won for MONSTER eight years ago) reveals a shortage of memorable roles, not because Theron’s win for MONSTER was a fluke (far from it), but because the roles she’s accepted have been underwritten. Only Theron’s Oscar-bait role in NORTH COUNTRY asked her to show expressive range or depth. Whether it’s a function of Theron’s desire to appear in high profile, big- or bigger-budgeted films or simply poor judgment (by her or her talent agency/manager), Theron seemed in danger of fading, if not into obscurity, then into mediocrity. Luckily for Theron (and for us), Diablo Cody, an Oscar winner herself for JUNO, and Jason Reitman (UP IN THE AIR, role for Theron that makes full use of her talents and skills as an actress.
YOUNG ADULT centers on Mavis Gary (Theron), a thirty-something ghostwriter of young adult novels facing an existential crisis. Her unglamorous life includes an apartment in Minneapolis, random sex with random strangers, avoiding calls from her publisher for her latest book, the last in a series of “Gossip Girl”-style title, and obsessing over her high-school sweetheart, Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson). Slade never left their hometown, Mercury, Minnesota, or if he did, he returned there after college. Married and the father of a newborn, Slade seems like an unpromising candidate to fulfill the hole in Mavis’ narcissistic heart, but that’s what the self-deluded Mavis thinks. With almost nothing to keep her in Minneapolis (“Have MacBook, will travel,” should be her, or any other writer’s motto).
In proverbial small town Mercury, Mavis runs into an old high-school mate, Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt). Matt, the victim of a life-redefining hate crime in high school, never left Mercury. High school was a Golden Age for Mavis, a literal prom queen. For the diminutive, overweight Matt, high school was a literal hell. What little sympathy came his way after the beating quickly evaporated when he was “outed” as straight, making the hate crime a non-hate crime (but a crime nonetheless). Both Mavis and Matt are stuck in a state of arrested development, Mavis in an idyllic vision of high school, where the world seemed to belong to her and the future held endless opportunities for success. Matt’s retreated even further back, collecting and mashing up action figures. Unsurprisingly, cynicism and sarcasm come easily to Matt. Just as unsurprisingly, he’s far more self-aware than Mavis.
That contrast, with Matt functioning as Mavis’ acerbic, sardonic comic foil and all-around conscience, pushes a supremely reluctant, supremely hesitant Mavis toward something that could be described as enlightenment, about herself, about her successes (minimal as they are), about her failures (many, including a failed marriage), and the profound disconnect between her desires, however irrational, and the real world, where Mavis’ desires mean practically nothing. And if the path to self-enlightenment is paved with good faith intentions, then Mavis is in woefully short supply. Egocentric behavior’s the norm for Mavis, the stories she creates for her characters reflect her the convenient fictions she believes correlate to the real world.
For every meteoric rise there’s concomitant fall and Cody’s career as a screenwriter seemed ready-made for the obligatory fall when her second screenplay, JENNIFER’S BODY, failed critically and commercially (both for good reasons). Cody’s hyper-stylized, Whedon-inspired dialogue seemed to indicate Cody was a one-trick screenwriter. The obviously more personal YOUNG ADULT indicates otherwise. Relying more on less noticeably stylized dialogue free of over-obvious pop-culture references helps immeasurably to make Mavis a multi-faceted, well-rounded character. Mavis may be an adherent to the Church of Narcissism or, if you prefer, a follower of the Cult of Narcissism endemic to contemporary society, but remarkably never slips into one-dimensional caricature.
Of course, it helps to have an actress as talented and skilled as Theron and a self-effacing, non-obtrusive director like Jason Reitman to maximize your screenplay’s potential. Armed with Cody’s dialogue and Reitman’s actor-friendly, Theron creates her first truly memorable character in almost a decade. Oswalt fulfills the promise he showed in the criminally underseen, underappreciated BIG FAN. He can bring pathos to his work as an actor and not just coast on his comedic persona. YOUNG ADULT belongs primarily to Theron and Oswalt, but Reitman elicits strong performances from the other cast members, including Wilson, playing another semi-emasculated male (a Wilson specialty, apparently), and in a small, minor key role, Elizabeth Reaser as Slade’s wife, Beth.
