Review of Jack Goes Boating (2010) by Alex F — 01 Aug 2011

Once again, Netflix has some rather odd ideas about what constitutes a 'romantic comedy'. The first two thirds of this indie film are very charming and understated. The last half hour is explosive in multiple dimensions.

As usual, it's the theological undertones in the film that are most intriguing to me. Jack is an affable if socially stunted guy, an unlikely-seeming fan of reggae and the "positive vibe" the music plays out. But underneath Jack's quirky exterior is a man committed to "positive vibes", and more than that, who is willing and able to discipline himself to pursue them. His ever-present ear phones and music player bear not-so-mute testimony to his unswerving commitment to his faith in positive vibes.

The idea of visualization is huge in this film. Everyone visualizes. Half of the core characters visualize positively, the other half negatively. The results are axiomatic in each case. Jack and Connie are seeking a future. Haphazardly. Slowly. Awkwardly. But sincerely. Genuinely. Truly. And in order to do that they are each visualizing themselves in the future. In that future Connie can be intimate. Jack can swim and row and cook. Each character working towards a future that is "just perfect". The shots of Jack visualizing the dinner he makes for Connie and their friends are beautiful and moving.

The friends that bring these unlikely two together are also visualizing, but in the negative sense. One locked in visions of the past, the other locked in a bleak and demeaning vision of the future. Each focused on visualizing not themselves, but each other - in the worst possible ways. The dinner party is the climax of the movie and a powerful thematic exploration of the results of their respective visualizations, separately and together.

The playing and singing of the reggae song at the dinner party sums up Jack & Connie's predicament with their friends. "By the waters of Babylon we lay down and wept for Zion", or some such other derivation of Psalm 137. A poetic summary of the evening for these two gentle folks. The eventual exodus is both theologically and romantically crucial. While there is a *very* strange turn after the exodus, the overall motif of the dinner party is going to stick in my head for a long time.

Of course, the theology is limited to us. There is no larger power, no greater hope than what we can (or can't) imagine in or out of our lives. While we root for Jack & Connie, the film is very happy to leave us with the angst of knowing that they are not immune to the troubles that plague the lives of their friends. It's clear we're meant to believe that they will avoid those pitfalls, but there's no realistic reason to do so. The film is bleak in that aspect, as any anthropocentric philosophy ultimately must be. If all we have is ourselves, and we are not enough, then even the temporary joys of today are shot through with the sorrows of an unforeseen tomorrow.

Philip Seymour Hoffman is fantastic in his role as Jack. Amy Ryan is powerful as Connie. As a directorial debut, this comes across as a powerful and understated effort. I didn't like everything in the film, but it was consistent and honest. The last third of the film was unnecessarily heavy-handed, but hey, aren't we all from time to time?

As an aside, it was interesting to learn after the fact that this movie was produced by the same folks who did "Little Miss Sunshine", "Sunshine Cleaners", and "Away We Go" - all three fascinating and quirky little films we've watched over the past few years and found to be strangely enjoyable.