On the Rocks (2020, Sofia Coppola) (Patreon)

59/100

Awestruck by Murray's (and Coppola's) confidence at certain key moments—he does absolutely nothing, and it's just stunningly effective. Thinking in particular of Dad's long, blank stare when Laura asks him why he cheated on her mother, which is all the more potent for how little it directly reveals (and thereby implicitly suggests). By strategically keeping Laura's husband offscreen for most of the movie, Coppola successfully creates a portrait of marital discord stemming almost entirely from a "charmingly" toxic parent-child relationship; that the film is structured very much like a broad Hollywood comedy, without ever quite going for actual jokes (apart from Jenny Slate's recurring bit and a brief moment in which Murray comes close to reprising Nick the Lounge Singer), had me intrigued and impressed for a good long while. And I do slightly prefer On the Rocks to Lost in Translation, frankly, if only because it's less self-pitying and, y'know, racist. (My complaints about the latter in 2003 were a rare case of me being ahead of the curve.) Unfortunately, the film's third act is kinda terrible, replete with self-righteous speeches, painfully overstated symbolism ("can't hear women's voices," replacing Dad's watch with hubby's), and the sort of tidy mopping-up that a genuine broad Hollywood comedy would favor. Also, this is admittedly nitpicky, but a lot of the evidence that made Laura think Dean was having an affair really has no other plausible explanation, which is to say that the screenplay sorta cheats. (Dad's right, for example, that there should be tons of texts from Fiona on Dean's phone if nothing's going on. She's his assistant! Does he have her under "Assistant" and not her name?) Still worth seeing just for the two lead performances, and especially for Murray's depiction of a man whose enormous privilege has taught him that he has nothing to fear from anyone, ever. It's pretty chilling.