I wouldn’t blame you for loathing this film. Not one little bit. It’s not like it’s anti-feminist … OTOH, it’s not like our subject, Laura (Rashida Jones), is allowed much of a POV; her father Felix (Bill Murray) has commandeered it. Between On the Rocks and Lost in Translation, one can’t help wondering what’s the real life relationship between writer/director Sofia Coppola and her own father, writer/director Francis Ford Coppola. Tell me he wasn’t this much of a dick.
The trouble begins when Laura’s husband, Dean (Marlon Wayans), mistakes his wife for his wife. In what was probably the toughest scene in the film to convey, Dean comes home dead tired from a business trip. As he discovers a woman in his bed, he seems to be on autopilot Don Juan mode, kissing Laura furiously until he opens his eyes and realizes *gasp* it’s his own wife! I’m not sure how else to put that. Needless to say, Laura ain’t impressed, but instead of sorting it out then and there, everybody involved decided a movie was in order. Not a good movie, mind you. Just a movie.
After keeping her suspicions to herself, Laura makes the mistake of informing the one person sure to overreact, her father. Good time Felix, you see, only understands relationships in terms of caveman dominance. Being a 2nd rate womanizer and 3rd rate social scientist himself, he is immediately sold on the idea of Dean’s infidelity and insists in getting involved.
That’s actually being kind. What Felix actually insists upon is taking over the investigation, Laura’s life, and, essentially, the film itself. You see, Felix missed out on the first fifteen minutes and wastes no time making the rest of the film about him; he leads Laura around by the leash pushing her to catch Dean in the act of whatever act he’s acting. Is Laura’s marriage, indeed, On the Rocks, or does the title simply describe Felix’s-fix-its?
The biggest impression I have of On the Rocks is of an unfinished screenplay. There’s really only one plot point in the entire film and it happens five minutes in. Felix makes a pretty good semi-zany secondary or tertiary character, but hardly one to control an entire film. This collective miscalculation all leads to the fact that On the Rocks has nothing to do with marriage and everything to do with the daddy issues of a soon-to-be middle-aged mother. The film might have been endearing on that score were I not completely unimpressed with Felix’s suffocating behavior. I thought my generation were helicopter parents, geez. I can appreciate On the Rocks for highlighting abusive parent-child relationships where the child should be well beyond the age of being abused. Yes, it still happens, and, yes, because of the dynamic, it is still abuse even when the child is far more physically capable than the adult. However … that doesn’t lend itself to screenplay gold.
There once was a woman irked a tad
Wondering if her man was Galahad
Tough being a wife
Who needs marital strife
When you’re already having problems with your dad?
Rated R, 96 Minutes
Director: Sofia Coppola
Writer: Sofia Coppola
Genre: Helicopter parenting, old school style
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Adults who find their intrusive parents endearing
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Feminists
