As a portrait in cluelessness, Dylan Kidd’s debut as a writer and director is a hoot: Roger Swanson (Campbell Scott: The Imposters) considers himself a real ladies’ man, the dude with the inside scoop on this whole sex thing that drives the rest of us crazy. He is, of course, wildly mistaken. Scott’s having a ball, diving head-first into a juicy character — the man who thinks he knows it all and doesn’t even know himself — and managing to make Roger if not actually sympathetic then nonetheless entirely fascinating in his astounding pigheadedness. One would worry for his sweet-natured nephew, teenaged Nick (Jesse Eisenberg), seeking advice on romance and getting a rowdy night on the town with Roger in reply, except that Nick’s head is on a lot straighter than his uncle’s. If only Roger could see that himself. Kidd’s script is whip-smart, a marvel of efficient, clever conversation, even if most of it is nothing more than Roger’s sound and fury, signifying nothing. But the bitter, ironic snorts it elicits are highly satisfying.
When you purchase or rent almost anything from Amazon US, Amazon Canada, Amazon UK, and Apple TV, Books, and Music (globally), you help support my work at Flick Filosopher. Please use my links when you’re shopping. Thank you!
MPAA: rated R for sexual content and language
viewed at a private screening with an audience of critics
please help keep truly independent film criticism alive!
Pledge your support now at Patreon or Substack.
FREE weekly digest and daily streaming recommendations via Substack.
Or make a one-time donation via Paypal.