Jeff, Who Lives at Home

I love the idea of a film about average looking actors playing average joe types living out one slightly above average day, so I was looking forward to Jeff, Who Lives at Home. I guess I should have known that the film was not destined to be a cinematic masterpiece, but I didn’t expect to be so disappointed by it. Don’t get me wrong, it was not an altogether awful film. There was something to like about it, specifically the cast, and even more specifically, Jason Segel. He clearly has a knack for portraying a chubby pothead man-child with a heart of gold. His character, Jeff, was not a far leap from his character on Freaks and Geeks, which is probably why he was so likeable. In Jeff, however, his actions were less guided by hormones and more guided by the drive to find a meaning in his life. Ed Helms was well-suited for the part of Jeff’s brother Pat. He wasn’t nearly as likeable as Jeff, but that was the point of his character. He played the contemptible Pat with anger management issues like it was second nature. And Susan Sarandon shined. She added a level of strength and talent to the film that was both necessary and fun.

The directors/writers Mark and Jay Duplass lucked out with their cast. And they made clever use of the ideas and storyline references of M. Night Shyamalan’s 2002 film Signs. But they missed the mark in a few important places. They take it too far over the top to manipulate the audience into tears. I don’t mind when a film aims to pull at the heart strings but I prefer when the emotional manipulation in a film is more difficult to detect. And then there was the music. It was distracting and annoying. The music stood out to the point that occasionally I mistook it for an inconsiderate audience member’s ring tone rather than a part of the film. And the biggest let down of all was the end of the film. I don’t intend to give the end away, but I will say that it brought to mind two words: polished turd.