We saw it. Up in the Air.
Got in on that good WGA free pass.
This is the thing. It is to be applauded because they made a movie about adults. What it is to be certain kinds of adults.
But it is to be booed a bit because, well, it is dullish. Or should I say Dulles?
Friends, George Clooney as Ryan Bingham is the guy, you know, the guy who can’t commit. And when he finally learns it’s a good thing to get close to someone (through some of the most obvious sequences in recent cinematic history), well, why do it?
Why do this movie?
I do not know.
The sad backdrop of people being fired—sad. Strange, though, you do become accustomed to experiencing them as the set pieces that they are. Maybe that is the point?
Alienated guy causing misery as he goes by.
Anyway, nothing really new here. Which is fine. But nothing much new in execution, either. Which is fine. But nothing much new in character or dialogue. Which is fine. And… I have run out of Which is fines.
You want to like this movie. You do. You just want to. Because it’s George and all. Vera Farmiga as the gorgeous emotionally empty equitable counterpart and Anna Kendrick as the young one with a thing or two to learn/teach, are both wonderful. Jason Bateman, always a good sleeze. Amy Morton and Melanie Lynskey are fabulous sisters of Ryan Bingham, great actors. You want to love this movie for the actors. You do. I love the actors. I want to yell Bravo to them all. Smart, on performances.
But, I have to say, I saw it all coming at me, like a Boeing 727 into a hoary hay bale.
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