You get the feeling that, for him, "The End of Love" is just another home video, like the ones that bookend the feature - only with nicer cameras and a theatrical release. The most impressive feat of Webber's film is noticing how little Isaac is actually present. You feel for Isaac's safety the entire time, but only in the film's second half does this dawn on Mark. Several positive signs - Lydia, an acting gig, and a pet goldfish for Isaac - have been gathering, but Mark slowly tilts toward wrecking them all. Luckily, the drama immediately returns to Mark and Isaac. Isaac is left with a Craigslist-sourced sitter - along with this part of the film.Ĭera's brief character (credited as “Micheal”) is a tonal oddity: He's playing at a swaggering version of himself - comic relief and a comment on Mark's outsider status - but we don't need an example of this Mark's inner journey does the job just fine.īy the time Cera screams first-world problems while waving a revolver, the film shifts into an alternate reality. However, the film weakens in its second half: Mark's attempt at a night out finds a young Hollywood cast ( Aubrey Plaza, Michael Angarano, Jocelin Donahue) at Michael Cera's cavernous mansion. Though her and Mark's relationship begins predictably, it evolves as naturally as the one between father and son. This is the most natural and welcome performance I've seen from her. As Isaac yells excitedly in the corner, the rest of the people in the room sit in excruciating silence.Īs a single parent named Lydia, Shannyn Sossaman (" The Rules of Attraction," " Road to Nowhere") radiates warmth. An early audition with Amanda Seyfried (one of many cameos) has the ring of first-hand embarrassment. Webber's clarity extends outside the home. But there's never a gimmicky statement found in Webber's work, only a series of confident questions. The half-improv approach is a risky one, especially as Judd Apatow has made intra-family line-ups almost a special effect, a shorthand promising some form of parental truth. Their interactions evade real-time they unfold almost as a crystallized memory - compressing laughter, tears, and wonder into a sensory collage - and as both character and director, Webber truly displays his talent. As a result, skilled DP Patrick Lucien Cochet needs only to capture the conversation between Webber and his boy. Lively Isaac is simply goes about his existence while a film is expertly assembled around him. With his real-life son joining him, Webber is not paired with a performer in the usual sense.
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