[yasr_overall_rating]
A young woman struggles to move on with her life after the death of her husband, an acclaimed folk singer, when a brash New York writer forces her to confront her loss and the ambiguous circumstances of his death.
Jason Sudeikis, mostly known for his prolonged stint on “Saturday Night Live” and leading roles in lowbrow, high-concept Hollywood comedies (“Horrible Bosses,” “We’re the Millers”), has recently taken a more restrained approach to acting, leaning away from straightforward slapstick and snappy one-liners to more subtle, endearingly witty and warm characterizations. The recent, raunchy, charming-but-flawed “Sleeping With Other People” (read my review here) marked the beginning of this trend. Sean Mewshaw’s first directorial feature, the romantic dramedy “Tumbledown,” sees Sudeikis continue down that path, once again imbuing his potentially one-dimensional character with much-needed warmth, while maintaining his playful persona that we all know and love so much. Ironically, it’s the lightly comedic bits that “Tumbledown” nails, while the film’s granola, folk-music-infused dramatic core sags a little.
Hannah (Rebecca Hall), a small-town journalist/biographer, mourns the death of her folk singer husband Hunter, who tumbled to his demise in the titular Tumbledown ravine while hiking. She’s secluded herself deep in the Maine wilderness, attempting to piece Hunter’s life back together by writing his biography.
One day, while visiting his grave, Hannah briefly spots Andrew (Jason Sudeikis), riding in to the cemetery on a motorbike, a striking presence in her otherwise-mundane, sorrowful existence. He leaves her numerous voice-mails, introducing himself as a “scholar” and “writer of pop culture in America,” interested in writing a biography about her deceased husband, but she initially ignores his insistent requests. Andrew keeps stalking her, resulting in Hannah’s mother (Gwyneth Paltrow Sr., a.k.a. Blythe Danner) interrupting a frigid lovemaking session between Hannah and her boy-toy, Curtis (Joe Manganiello), to let her know that Andrew won’t back down until he meets her.
“You parasites are done running Hunter through the rumor mill,” Hannah informs Andrew upon their first meet-ugly (is that the opposite of a “meet-cute”?). She initially shuts him down, even ripping up his notebook, but then Andrew gradually wins her over with his guileless passion for Hunter’s music. Lonely, deeply entrenched in reliving her husband’s life, Hannah gives in and allows him to join her in the writing process. As they bond together over a past life, their own lives begin to make sense.
“Tumbledown” deals with universal issues – such as loss, grief, atonement, the meaning of true artistic prowess, and the rekindling of love – with gentle humor, intermittently observant nuances and patience, albeit it does so with rare traces of novelty. It never digs deeper than the 2-inch snow of Maine. The music also becomes grating, as do the banal melancholy bits, some montage sequences particularly as moth-eaten as Hannah’s sweaters.
Hunter, who only wrote 12 songs, is no Kurt Cobain or David Foster Wallace, both of which are referenced in the film, which takes away from the gravity – his music just never resonates. Andrew says it best himself, “There’s nothing cutting-edge about him.” He does proceed to describe Hunter as “timeless.” Timeless? Hell, he’s not even as good as Llewyn Davis – and that guy had it rough.
It comes as no surprise that the best lines in the film come from Sudeikis, and are hence its funniest. “That crazy ‘widow routine’ of yours, does that work on people?” he asks Hannah, half-seriously, as only Sudeikis can. “Seems a little over the top.” When confronted by her at one point, he retorts, “Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing… a quote from Sylvia Plath before pre-heating herself to 350.” There is also a “deer condom” line that made me burst out laughing. The actor effortlessly conveys his established natural charisma, but it’s the deeper shades of poignancy that make Andrew one of Sudeikis’ most intricate characters so far.
Rebecca Hall (“The Gift”) is always dependable, and her character could have easily slipped into “despisable,” but the actress’s natural charm and astute command of her performance prevents that from ever happening. Hannah is conflicted, bitter, possessive, egotistical, by turns rude and vulnerable, refusing to let her husband go. Andrew, who could never replace Hunter, comes in as her savior, not just from the trauma of her husband’s death, but from her own personal demons.
Some of the film’s finest moments come from Hannah and Andrew’s interactions, such as when they discuss the rationale behind writing Hunter’s biography. “You are condemning a genius to obscurity,” Andrew shouts, as she slams the door in his face. “Work on this with me!” Their chemistry is especially palpable in the film’s highlight, a sequence that comes late in the film, where they discuss one of Hunter’s songs. It starts off with Andrew thinking he’s nailed down the essence of a song, and ends with Hannah ostensibly twisting his notions, and the actors handle the fragile interaction deftly.
The rest of the supporting cast is somewhat underused: Joe Manganiello hams it up as Hannah’s deer-hunting fuck-buddy, Griffin Dunne barely makes an impression as Hannah’s boss and Dianna Agron seems like a last-minute addition to the script as Andrew’s girlfriend Finley. Blythe Danner and Richard Masur, stalwarts that they are, make the most out of the short-but-very-funny Easter (Andrew: “Passover? Both?”) dinner scene, as Hannah’s parents.
Mewshaw’s film is the definition of a charming, predictably paced and plotted little indie. It doesn’t break any new grounds, nor does it attempt to plumb the depths of human emotion, but its predictability is almost reassuring, like a mother’s hug. Akin to a pleasant perfume that leaves a pleasant-but-brief scent, “Tumbledown” doesn’t soar, but due to Sudeikis’ and Hall’s charismatic lead turns, its moments of genuine humor, and a generally amicable vibe, it never tumbles down into the murky depths of pretentious indie dramas.
In theaters February 12th
