Penn and Johnson take us for a ride in Daddio
It’s been said that sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a friend. Writer/director Christy Hall takes that notion and runs with it in her impressive debut Daddio, an intriguing two-hander that’s essentially a prolonged confessional between a pair of troubled souls in the throes of denial. It’s been a long night and Clark (Sean Penn) is ready to pack it in after taking one more fare. It serves to be a fateful decision as his passenger is a tired, troubled woman with a lot on her mind. Never revealing her name, the hack ends up referring to her as Girlie (Dakota Johnson), a moniker he comes to realize does her a disservice.
Obviously tired, she’s in no mood for talking, preoccupied
with a boyfriend who’s sexting her, an act she quietly disdains. However, Clark
is a bit lonely, as well as student of human nature, and effortlessly pulls her
into a conversation. Innocuous at first, their talk gradually becomes more
intimate, subjects broached that far exceed the boundaries of polite
conversation. Yet, there’s a willingness between the two – particularly on
Girlie’s part – as if each needs to unburden themselves and who better to do so
than with someone you’re not emotionally invested with?
A very convenient traffic jam allows Clark to probe a bit
deeper and his sense Girlie wants to talk proves right. Before all is said and
done, she reveals that she’s involved with an older, married man, that she had
a troubled childhood, which included a neglectful father, and she’s just returned
from Oklahoma, where she went to visit her half-sister to settle some familial
issues.
The advice Clark gives her is of the dime-store variety, the
sort of broad, obvious tropes Lucy Van Pelt would likely provide. Yet, the
sincerity with which Penn delivers them helps negate their cliched nature. That
he’s willing to divulge some of his own troubles as well as past problems lends
credence to his advice and makes the quick bond these two form seem plausible.
It comes as no surprise that Hall had originally conceived
this as a stage play and that most of this was shot on a soundstage seems
ironic. Yet, this is apt as Daddio’s focus is the connection made by
these two strangers and the empathy that results through such a meeting. Social
isolation has grown as technology has taken over our lives, and Hall does us a
great service by reminding us of the importance of forming true interpersonal
connections in this impressive, deft debut. In theaters.
Cast elevates familiar Affair
Coming hot on the heels of Anne Hathaway’s The Idea of You is the similarly plotted A Family Affair, a more lighthearted look at a May-December romance between a celebrity and someone outside his normal sphere. The difference between the two? Director Richard LaGravenese applies a deft touch that allows the humor of the situation to emerge, his strong cast walking the tightrope between comedy and drama to create a breezy concoction that winds up being far better than it has a right to be.
The young superstar in question is Chris Cole (Zac Efron),
an action movie icon with little range but loads of charisma. Protected by his
handlers and happy in his bubble of self-isolation, he’s content to churn out
multi-million-dollar pablum for the masses, raking in the big bucks and taking
in all of the ego-stroking his sycophants can dole out.
However, his world is rocked when he meets Brooke Harwood
(Nicole Kidman), a beautiful, intelligent writer who has no idea who Cole is
and treats him as just a regular Joe. He’s immediately taken by her unassuming
nature, straight-forward approach and obvious beauty. Yet, there’s a problem,
and it’s a big one – Brooke happens to be the mother of his forever-put-upon
assistant Zara (Joey King), who loathes him.
It's a simple premise but screenwriter Carrie Solomon
approaches it with intelligence, and more importantly, wit. The banter between
the three principals is sharp, while elements of screwball comedy are sprinkled
throughout. Yet, it’s the depth with which the characters are examined that
helps elevate this above the standard comedy.
Time is taken to examine what makes each in the trio tick
and the issues they harbor make sense and are relatable. Insecurities plague
them all. Cole is certain no one can see past his screen persona; Brooke
believes there’s no way she can be everything he needs, and Zara is convinced
there’s no way she can escape her mother’s shadow. These issues are dealt with sincerely, none
of them used as fodder for cheap pathos.
As a result, we come to care for each of them and the
conclusion seems earned rather than conveniently tacked on. Of course, none of
this would work without the veteran trio. Kidman does what she does, Efron
reminds us that he’s more than just a hunk and King shows a previously unseen
talent for light comedy. In the end, it’s their combined efforts that help us
overcome any misgivings we might have about Affair’s out-there-premise. Streaming
on Netflix.
