A gentle, mysterious voice had crooned irresistably, “There’s beauty in the breakdown,” and I was ready – burrowed into the sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket, hugging a pillow (or was it a dog?), long sleeves on hanky duty. Too bad Zach Braff never really snaps out of his Garden State* to deliver that breakdown he promised. (He promised!) With bated breath, I anticipated the cathartic payoff I was sure had been worked into the film’s formula. I waited for him to crumple and writhe about in his own saline sea, that pretty face all ruddy and contorted beyond recognition. All in vain, oh, my brothers.
Hey, I’ve got a great idea for a drinking game. (Hey, I just got back from college.) Every time Ian Holm’s callous nightmare of a psychiatrist/father shows a tinge of heart, everybody takes one shot. Two shots each time Zach’s zany/pathetic school buddies hint at their emotional depth, and three when his numb protagonist unleashes his pain and passion. Sure, the kids can play! It’s fun for the whole family and totally designated-driver-friendly!
But if you really wanted to get wasted, you could take a swig each time Mr. Braff bugs out his eyes or Natalie Portman rolls hers. Why can’t I be at least partially satisfied by her character’s crack-ups at the hamster’s funeral or in the airport finale? you might ask. And I might hasten to reply that I think her acting has all the expressiveness of a Queen Amidala action figure. Besides, it’s the boy I want to make – er, I mean, watch weep.
The one-minute and three-minute music videos were really moving and kinda sweet. The 100-minute feature film was ultimately rather disappointing.
*Thank you, Derek Smith!