I love when the last shot of a movie tells you everything you need to know about what you’ve seen. The final shot of a film is the last chance its writer and director have to put a thought in your head that sticks. The last few seconds of “Crazy, Stupid, Love” deliver such a shot.
Most moviegoers won’t give the shot a second thought. It’s of an adolescent boy who’s smiling as he looks at his parents. When combined with what happened, and didn’t happen, in the preceding shots, the message of “Crazy, Stupid, Love” becomes clear: love can be messy, longing for it can be painful, the loss of it can be devastating, and the lack of it leaves us without a soul, yet we should never give up believing in or hoping for it, because when it finds us, it’s as though life has given us wings.
Before I go on, please remove your finger from your throat. I’m not reliving my days as a writer of third-rate greetings cards, that’s simply the impression “Crazy, Stupid, Love” gave me. And as corny as it sounds, it was delivered through well-written dialogue, genuinely funny scenes, and acting so luminous, I wanted to spend the rest of the day in repeat viewings. An explanation of the plot is in order. While dining out, Cal says to his wife, Emily, “On three, let’s say what we want for dessert. One, two, three ...” Emily says, “I want a divorce.” At some point leading up to middle age, they lost sight of each other and have grown apart.
Their younger son, Robbie, who’s every bit of 13, is too busy being in love with his 17-year-old babysitter to notice. Cal moves into a cheap, un-furnished apartment and starts to frequent a local bar, where he sees the twentysomething Jacob in action. To watch Jacob pick up a woman is like watching Rembrandt paint, only Jacob seems to be detached from the process, as though he’s not actually there. Still, he’s a master, and he never fails. Well, almost never. One night, Jacob tries to land Hannah, who shoots him down out of respect for her dull boyfriend. She doesn’t forget about him, though. Jacob notices Cal watching him and decides to give the poor sap lessons in his brand of love, beginning with the shockingly bad tennis shoes Cal wears. It goes from there, but “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” isn’t about plot, even though it leads to a rather cleverly constructed climax, but about how these people affect each other’s lives.
This is a wholesome movie, not in a 1950’s Ozzie and Harriet way, but in a 2011 PG-13 way. In one scene, Hannah tells Jacob as she arrives at his apartment for a sleepover, “I know what happens in the PG-13 version of this movie. I fall asleep, and then you kiss me goodnight and cover me with a blanket.” What actually transpires that night is sweet and unexpected. “Crazy, Stupid, Love” is worlds apart from “The Change-Up,” “Horrible Bosses,” “The Hangover” and other movies that revel in frat boy crass. There’s no vulgarity, no raunch, and only one F bomb that, in context, makes sense. What’s more, it’s characters are kind-hearted people. As Roger Ebert points out in his review, “there is cynicism, but it’s employed only to be corrected.”
I should also mention the performances. Steve Carrell is the go-to actor for lost, clueless middle-aged men, and there’s a reason for that: he plays them well. As Jacob, Ryan Gosling is a revelation. I also liked Analeigh Tipton as the babysitter. Watch her timing in the scene in which she asks one of the popular girls at school for advice on attracting an older man. There’s a scene in “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” in which Emily yells at Cal, and as she walks away, it starts to rain. As Cal thinks about who he’s become since their separation and the rain falling on his head, he says, “What a cliché.” But “Crazy, Stupid, Love” is not a cliché. You’ll understand what I mean when you see the last shot.
Rated PG-13 for coarse humor, sexual content and language. Three-and-a-half stars out of four. Email David Laprad at dlaprad@hamiltoncountyherald.com.