 | Subscribe to Print |
 Melvin Goes to Dinner A Phyro-Giant Partners presentation in association with Situation Films, Squaresville Prods./LeFoole Inc. of a DJ Paul production. Produced by Naomi Odenkirk, DJ Paul, Jeff Sussman. Co-producers, Michael Blieden, Bob Odenkirk. Directed by Bob Odenkirk. Screenplay, Michael Blieden. Melvin - Michael Blieden Alex - Stephanie Courtney Joey - Matt Price Sarah - Annabelle Gurwitch Waitress - Kathleen Roll Leslie - Maura Tierney By SCOTT FOUNDAS
"Melvin Goes to Dinner," attempts to look at the nitty-gritty of
modern adult relationships in the same manner "My Dinner With Andre"
explored the meaning of life. Similarly location-challenged comedy
adapted by Michael Blieden from his own play, is an intelligent, seriocomic
film that, at its best, reminds of what Woody Allen used to deliver
in his movies. Even when pic falters, Blieden and helmer Bob Odenkirk's
commitment to this low-concept, character-driven project is never
less than admirable. Ultimately better suited to the small screen,
pic should also see fair fest exposure, with a small theatrical run
not improbable.
The meal in "Melvin Goes to Dinner" is an impromptu affair organized by Joey (Matt Price) as a way of catching up with -- Melvin (Blieden), a med-school dropout working a land-surveying job he doesn't give a damn about, and Alex (Stephanie Courtney), an ex-classmate of Joey's who happens to be in town on business. They're unexpectedly joined by Sarah (Annabelle Gurwitch), an old friend of Alex's whom Alex bumps into on the street en route to the restaurant. Blieden has concocted an appealing scenario -- each of the four dinner guests is meeting at least one of the other three for the first time; and there's a vague unease in the air. Once the conversation gets going, things loosen up; Blieden has a wonderful feel for the wrinkly ebb and flow of natural talk, to the extent that it points up just how steam-ironed the dialogue is in most movies. The meal itself is missing from "Melvin Goes to Dinner." Instead, the characters weigh in (presumably, before and after dining) with their varying points of view on everything from religion and the paranormal to pornographic fantasies and the ethics of adulterous relationships. Newlywed Joey confesses that two years of marriage have only increased his attraction to other women; Melvin details two affairs he's had with married women in the past year. There's a confessional, eavesdropping fun to the pic; its characters are articulate, self-aware and unburdened by the sort of self-help speechifying that can infect such films. But as skilled as Blieden is at creating complex (if not necessarily three-dimensional) individuals who don't fit easy stereotypes, he's so timid about confronting his characters' moral ambiguities that one wonders why he sets them up in the first place. Each of the characters has a secret he or she is holding back that calls into question that character's moral fiber. But when the revelations are made, one by one, during pic's climax, they just hang unchallenged, and it feels like a cop-out (something compounded by the fact scenes that include the pic's secondary characters -- the spouses and/or lovers of the four protagonists -- are limited to flashbacks). The movie cuts out just when it's really getting at the heart of the matter, and home viewers may find themselves smacking the top of their televisions to make sure they're not on the blink. Odenkirk can't overcome the pic's staginess as smoothly as other play-to-film directors have. But, on balance, pic reps the near-antithesis of his first pic, "Run Ronnie Run," a puerile gross-out comedy that preemed at last year's Sundance fest and promptly disappeared.What keeps pic going, even through its rougher patches, is the energy of the performers, particularly the lanky, ingratiating Blieden; the wonderfully zany Kathleen Roll (who makes the most of a few fleeting appearances as the group's absentminded waitress); and the inspired Jack Black (who appears unbilled, in a memorable flashback scene). |