Up in the Air

A year ago I penned a list of young, mainstream American directors of consequence. At the time I thought Jason Reitman, son of Ivan, having made only Thank You for Smoking and Juno, not well enough established to include. Now there is no question.

[Normally I don't bother with spoiler alerts, but since I want you to see this movie as unprepared as I was, and since I don't wish to censor my reaction, I'm making an exception. Spoilers ahead.]

The primary story, about a man who lives divested of all personal attachments, is one female away from boilerplate romantic comedy. Enter female and, to my (temporary) consternation, the setup proceeds to play out in the all-too-obvious fashion, all the way to the hackneyed scene where we endure a change of heart at podium and the painfully inevitable Go get her! sequence that follows.

Up to that point we are forced to make allowances for this routine romance as mere cover for the real story, the arresting and astonishingly truthful secondary story, that reveals itself only after Natalie gets dumped. The heart of the film is a conversation between top-of-twentysomething and bottom-of-fortysomething about ideals and expectations on either side of the horrible gulf that lies between. How rare and valuable this dialogue, this mentorship and exchange. Reitman creates a space for your participation, invites you to see yourself there and reflect.

The tertiary story is the fallout of recession, the doleful ranks of the culled. It's a dozen personal stories that stand for thousands, a black inversion of the roll of couples in When Harry Met Sally. By including their stories Reitman takes on a responsibility to respect the pain of their experience. It would be cheap, in a movie about the moment of loss, to permit Movie Star George Clooney to find love and live happily ever after. Like a massive and heretofore inert narrative lever, the primary story is finally brought to bear: He loses the girl, and not only the girl, but the very idea he ever had her. It comes as a terrible shock and stinging of the unfair — indeed the audience might feel as hurt by Reitman's rom-com deception. Bingham is tossed back into the cold blue sky, plans of a future dashed below.

But neither is this a pessimistic film. In the four character resolutions (including Bingham's niece & husband) Reitman acknowledges all the seasons. At this moment, some people have it all and flaunt it; some people are struggling but steady; some people have come through hardship to glimpse a promising new day; and some people have just been let go.

...

I didn't get fired from my job. I quit because I didn't like it. I couldn't spend any more time being unhappy. I left my work unfinished; work that people are still counting on, relying on me to do. I've cut off communication out of embarrassment. Perhaps I could burn bridges professionally.

The trouble is, I find I can't move on until I put that fire out. There's an e-mail I need to write, for closure...


...Okay, I wrote it. And sent it. The prospect of publishing the above sentences forced me to. Now I think I'll have a beer and watch a movie.