Review of Our Idiot Brother (2011) by Hayden M — 08 Aug 2012

How could you title a film after a character who's not only not an idiot but actually superior to all the other characters? Easily, actually, if you make just a dull and unthinking switcheroo between "idiot" and "not an idiot." Pull off some stunts, some simple 'slap upside the head' muggings, and you'd be in business. Aww! :-).

But I don't think that's what Jesse Peretz is doing here -- the dynamics, friction, mood, and characters of his story are all far too subtle for that. Paul Rudd and the whole cast; the smart activity of the script; the expert movement between 'boots on the ground' and 'heads in the air'; its place in present-day New York; the sibling, Real World, and "idealism" tensions: all thoughtful and sharp. So how could this be?

I think Peretz is actually slightly adjusting the word "idiot." Not by bluntly and stupidly puffing it up, in some sniveling "Ho-ho-ho! We've all got 'em! Not 'idiot's: 'eediots! <3'" way (although some of the producers, jabbering in the 'Making of' featurette, seem to delight in reductivism like that). Not by tripping everyone else, bringing them down to a lowly idiot level, in a "Whoa, look at all the quote-unquote 'smart' people, compared to this quote-unquote 'idiot'!" way.

But in a way that's actually thoughtful and real, synthesizing those two in a cool funny/sad story. Ned (Paul Rudd) is a shiftless thirtysomething, selling veggies at a local market, who gets nabbed selling pot to a uniformed cop. Pretty stupid and/or (in those circumstances) pretty understandable, huh? Released for good behavior, he attempts to reconnect with his girlfriend Janet (Kathryn Hahn) on their farm, where his beloved dog Willie Nelson waits, and is rebuffed. Ned's three sisters -- Miranda (Elizabeth Banks), an ambitious gossip writer; Liz (Emily Mortimer), an imperfect family woman; and Natalie (Zooey Deschanel), a bisexual bohemian -- are all a little peeved too, each for their own reasons, when he re-enters their lives.

A manchild imprisoned for pot, rejected by his weird girlfriend, and now back near actual success-climbers.

Ned pinballs among their various crises -- exacerbating, mollifying, confusing them (various minor characters, ironies, mishaps, etc. in each) -- and the film becomes a very simple philosophical allegory: straight-ahead idealist/optimist against conditionalist, relativistic, cunty natterers. It's a modern-day, family-set morality play, but there are enough interesting questions and nicely-written three-part duels to belie the easy tokens.

In the story of one sister... Miranda's breakthrough article will be a dump on rich (but misunderstood/gossip-exploited) Lady Arabella, a woman whom Ned befriends purely -- "Whose dress are you wearing?" she's asked, and "Uh, mine" she answers coyly but gamely to make him laugh. Ned has to vouch for one of Miranda's ill-gotten scoops on Lady Arabella, and he won't lie, so Miranda effectively loses that chance at fame.

Meanwhile, Jeremy (Adam Scott) tries to platonically romance Miranda, and Ned screws that up with borderline-"retarded" "breakdown[s] in communication.".

In the story of another sister... Liz is dealing with her probably-cheating husband Dylan (Steve Coogan), whom Ned makes progress in uncovering, and her disconnected young son, whom Ned befriends and shows karate. But Liz is determined to be passive-aggressive and sniping, as when she argues to her two sisters, "A family is a very precarious thing; you guys'll see when you get it together!".

In the story of the other sister... Natalie seems confident and put-together, but she's terrified of commitment; her girlfriend Cindy (Rashida Jones) is one locus, but a whole other is Natalie's random pregnancy with a guy they both know. Ned, floundering with the pregnancy news, also uses some of Cindy's legal knowledge for his dilemma with Willie Nelson the dog, who (if you'll remember) is held captive by Ned's ex Janet.

As these all get sorted out, Jesse Peretz sprinkles a lot of levity into the mix, particularly Janet's new boyfriend, the genial Billy (T.J. Miller). Following the denouement to the many dramas, Billy shares a blissful stupid-joke dialogue with Ned about recycling candles -- the first recycled should say "I used to be a different candle," the next should say "I've been TWO candles before this," and the far-future outcome should say "Trust me, I've been a lot of candles!" -- is so absurdly charming and well-meaning. I don't know, haha: there are many examples.

So ultimately, OUR IDIOT BROTHER is a decently warm, fun, thoughtful modern comedy. I don't think it's perfect, but I would definitely encourage you to remember: when deciding whether Paul Rudd's Ned is an idiot, the first thing you decide ("He _is_ an idiot, but idiocy is a lovely thing!" or "He's obviously _not_ an idiot!") might not be the perfect decision. Try between those.