“Cyrus” is what is known as a “mumblecore” film, which is a new revolution of indie filmmaking. The genre is known for its real characters and even more “real,” if mundane, plots. Its lo-fi style makes its characters and their common problems highly relatable, but not all mumblecore films can avoid feeling contrived.
I identify most closely with John (John C. Reiley), a lonely and divorced 40-something who abruptly discovers his ex wife (Catherine Keener) is getting remarried. The two remain congenial, and she invites John to a house party where he can meet a girl and drown his sorrows.
John’s monologue spoken to a disengaged girl at the party, delivered so affectingly and with frailty by Reilly, is very close to what I feel at times, and what I imagine most average people go through. He says he’s in a tailspin, that he’s depressed and lonely, but he knows himself to be a fun person with so much to give if he only finds the right person.
This man is not starting at rock bottom. How many people really do? We go through lonely, turbulent times, but many of us can still persevere and continue living. This is a common and true emotion rarely seen in mainstream Hollywood.
But at the same party, John is blessed to meet the lovely Molly (Marisa Tomei) and they hit it off almost too beautifully. But we believe it because Tomei, as she has gotten older, has proven to be more instantly warm and infectious with each role. She and Reilly have wonderful chemistry.
The plot threatens to turn into another movie when the title character, Cyrus (Jonah Hill), is introduced. He fills the role of Molly’s 21-year-old mama’s boy still living at home. Their affections for one another are peculiar, and he starts a small vendetta to eliminate John from their lives.
I can’t truly figure out why Cyrus belongs in this film. His existence is necessary only to create contrived conflict and comedy, but all the surrounding love scenes feel the most authentic and charming. Granted, the film could greatly devolve into madcap, screwball territory, but it resists that urge. Even a character like Cyrus is complex enough to give him more credibility than the unfortunate man-child roles Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis are forced to play.
But the other irritating thing about “Cyrus” is its persistence to fiddle with the camera’s zoom lens. It’s supposed to reflect a documentary realism, but even “The Office” doesn’t feel this sporadic.
We’re trying to train our hearts and minds on the characters, and yet things like the camera and ancillary plot requirements somehow get in the way. It’s a frustrating film with a lot of heart and truth, but also a few annoyances.
3 stars