By: Ben Verdi
Dark
comedies are like zebras. For every piece of light
fun they contain, there is an equal and opposite
element of dark reflection and poignancy. They can
be deeply moving, and at times very sad, but dark
comedies are, in the end, always naturally white
horses with some dark stripes splashed on top.
Jay and Mark Duplass’ “Cyrus” is more of a black
horse with white stripes. To call it simply a “dark
comedy” does it a disservice — like walking by a
church and calling it merely a “building.” The film
actually means much more than that label, and it
stays with its audience longer than other films of
its mold.
The casting is probably the best aspect of
“Cyrus.” None of the actors look like they’re in
over their heads dramatically, but no one is forced
to be funnier than they actually are. John C. Reilly
(“Step Brothers”) was clearly sought out for his
role (as the main character, John) the same way in
which film executives must have gone after Bill
Murray when casting for “Lost in Translation.”
Reilly is one of the few actors in the world whose
broken, pained smile can evoke our deepest
sympathies mere minutes after we — in the form of
Catherine Keener (“Where the Wild Things Are”) —
walk in on him masturbating in his empty apartment.
While Keener’s role as Reilly’s ex-wife is
developed and important, the lead actress in this
film is Marisa Tomei (“The Wrestler”). As perfectly
cast as Reilly is for his role as a quirky divorcée
desperate for human connection, Tomei is hauntingly
brilliant as Molly, a single mom trying to
resuscitate her own sexuality as Reilly’s love
interest.
Tomei is probably the only reason someone
wouldn’t walk away from this film with a renewed
appreciation for Reilly’s range as an actor. She
quietly, with just a flip of her eyelashes, a
whisper through the covers of her bed, steals the
show. She embodies the subtlety with which single
people her age (in their forties) still try to
flirt. It’s like she creates two characters for us
in this film: The first is the fun-loving, sexy
woman Reilly falls for at a party early on, and the
next is the subdued, suburban woman that time and
circumstance (and a child) have forced her to
become.
That college-aged child is played by the
baby-faced Jonah Hill (“Get Him to the Greek”) and
his name is Cyrus. It initially feels odd that this
film is named after his character, because he starts
out seeming like he’s not going to be anything but a
funny sideshow to the love story around which the
plot rotates. At first, Cyrus’s conniving ways and
backstabbing at Reilly’s attempts to woo his mother
make us laugh in a kind of inverse-“Meet the
Parents” dynamic. But, as the film continues, we
begin to doubt just how “funny” Cyrus’s antics are,
and even to question his sanity.
Perhaps that’s why this film is titled “Cyrus.”
Maybe it is Hill’s name on a marquee that Fox
Searchlight wanted because of how deeply rooted his
career and his talents are in pure comedy. In a way,
Hill’s well-played Cyrus is the chief
“reverse-zebra” in this movie. The depth of his
character, who is dark on the inside but funny on
the exterior, is what gives this film its identity.
For the first time, it seems that Jonah Hill is
allowed to become a deeper, darker horse with only a
few white stripes, and not just an overweight joke
machine with one or two sad moments interspersed. |
