Irate and Crabby?

I desperately wanted to like Ira and Abby. Pitched as a follow-up to the fluffy, yet entertaining Kissing Jessica Stein, Ira and Abby had all the signs of being a mindlessly fun film that would lighten my day. When I decided to see the paradoxically described "divorce comedy," I figured it would inspire a quick, enthusiastic review for this blog. At worst, I figured I would have to include some caveats on my approval (i.e. it's still a "chick flick", it's sometimes formulaic, et cetera). Yet weeks after seeing the movie, I am still at a loss for words. That fact alone should be some indication of my mixed feelings about the film. On the one hand, writer-actress Jennifer Westfeldt can have an inviting, if quirky, presence and her comedic dialogue is regularly sharp and witty. Still, I can't fight the feeling that Ira and Abby is too trite and ultimately too depressing to be anything other than mediocre.

Ira and Abby explores one couple's forays into marriage, love, jealousy, and psychoanalysis. As you can guess, the film centers on the eponymous protagonists—Ira, the neurotic product of psychoanalytic parents; and Abby, a free spirit who has never set foot inside a shrink's office. Their story begins when Ira and Abby meet serendipitously in a New York gym. Hours later, they decide to get hitched. That's right, only hours later, they decide to get married.

Now, maybe I'm just a cynic. Maybe I'm not all that spontaneous (admittedly true). Regardless, the concept is a bit hard to swallow. Mostly, it seems unrealistic because Ira and Abby's initial interactions are so awkward and bizarre. Unlike other "love at first sight" films, like Before Sunrise, where the two immediately hit it off and ponder the depths of their souls within a short time frame, Ira and Abby decide to make a go of it after abrupt, off-kilter statements and interactions. Take this example. You tell me whether or not this is weird. During one of their first encounters, Abby asks Ira if she can see his stomach. After Ira begrudgingly lifts his shirt, Abby proceeds to nuzzle her head into his belly. Now, trust me when I say that Abby's actions in this scene don't play as "cute", they play as crazy (luckily her eccentricities become less bizarre and more endearing as the film progresses).

But, fine. We've gotten over how impetuously the characters have behaved. They got married quickly and under some weird circumstances. It may seem a bit sudden and unrealistic, but hey, some people are actually uninhibited enough to follow a similar trajectory (ahem, Danny Bonaduce). We'll suspend our disbelief. So we keep watching. The two end up falling in love and the audience gets to witness the bliss for awhile. Then, Ira finds out Abby has been married twice before and things takes a turn for the worse. Jealousy consumes their relationship. To tops things off, Ira's mother and Abby's father begin an extramarital affair of their own.

Suffice it to say, a significant portion of the film concerns relationships in disrepair. Though the conflicts are not on par with the virulence exhibited in other divorce/split up comedies like War of the Roses or The Break-Up, Ira and Abby does still grapple with the central problem that these movies face. How do you take the edge off of something as inherently unpleasant and disheartening as a break-up? The answer is, with tremendous difficulty. In Ira and Abby, for instance, the majority of the comedic punchlines involve cynical views on marriage. Even though the humor derives from the outlandish nature of the cynicism, the pervading pessimism can still leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Aside from these faults, the film is also riddled with platitudes and trite commentary. The generalized discussions about marriage are unoriginal and pessimistic. The commentary on today's overreliance on psychiatry feels tired and contrived. Fortunately, for all the lack of novelty in these discussions, at least the characters themselves are novel. Westfeldt has managed to create unique, dynamic characters that intrigue the viewer. Truth be told, I was rooting for Ira and Abby. Maybe not when the initial proposal scene happened, but I was definitely in their corner for the rest of the film. More than that, I can say I was actually entertained by the film, even if it did seem weirdly depressing to me (in a very subtle, aftertaste sort of way). At the end of the day, Ira and Abby isn't a "bad" movie. It isn't horrible. Was it good? I'm not sure. So for now I'm torn. Maybe in two years I'll have a definitive statement on the matter. Just don't quote me on that.

Get Your Geek On

It's a world rampant with megalomania, shady characters, general connivery and (gasp) celebrity. No, not Hollywood. Or Vegas. Surprisingly, it's the microcosm of competitive video gaming—a curious, insular community that has been captured by the wildly entertaining documentary, The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. In the film, the celebrities of the gaming world prove they can be equally as self-involved as other famous figures, only instead of flaunting classic features and emaciated physiques, these revered icons sport mullets and speak in Star Wars analogies.

Now, I'm not a self-professed gamer. I may have played my share of "Goldeneye" shoot-em-ups and was, admittedly, engrossed by calculator games in high school (lo-fi bowling, anyone?). But that hardly qualifies. Fortunately, you don't need to play video games, you don't need to like video games, hell, you don't even need to understand video games in order to love The King of Kong. In fact, it's entirely possible that we non-gamers may enjoy the film on a much more visceral level than the quarter-pumping arcade-aholics. I say this because much of the pleasure and comedy of the film derives from the absurd contrast between the gaming microcosm and the macrocosmic world at large. The "outside looking in" perspective effectively frames the narrative.

But there's another reason why joystick dexterity isn't a prerequisite for loving this film. The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters isn't just about gaming. It's about the people immersed in the gaming competition. The film follows two central subjects—Billy Mitchell, the defending Donkey Kong champion, and Steve Wiebe, the high-scoring challenger hoping to trounce Mitchell's long-held record. Though they may be united by mutual goals of earning acclaim in Donkey Kong, the two competitors could not be more different. Where Mitchell is an underhanded narcissist obsessed with his own dominance, Wiebe is a kind-hearted, devoted family man who just can't catch a break. Granted, the film has been carefully constructed to cast Mitchell and Wiebe in their archetypal villain-hero roles. I'm sure there's unseen footage of Mitchell being the nice guy. But regardless, it makes for a good story.

As you can imagine, these personality profiles provide a significant majority of the film's entertainment value. Some of the most hilarious (and, perhaps tragic) moments of the film concern Mitchell's interminable delusions of grandeur. If you didn't know better, Mitchell might convince you that he is one of the most potent figures in America (or maybe even in the world). By contrast, some of the most poignant moments of the film concern Wiebe's long fought efforts to gain recognition, the resilience he exhibits, and his emotional candor. But Mitchell and Wiebe are not the only sources of entertainment. Other video-gaming "characters" such as the referee, Walter Day; the Donkey Kong enthusiast, Brian Kuh; and the over-the-top "Mr. Awesome" bring the film to a new level of hilarity.

The true accolades, however, should go to Seth Gordon, the filmmaker behind The King of Kong. Gordon has expertly crafted a non-fiction narrative that is so enthralling and so well constructed it begs viewers to run back for another showing. The pacing never lags (thanks to the economical editing), the story structure flows well, and the visual plane never gets stale, since Gordon intersplices the standard interview shots with images and other footage. As hard as I try, I cannot find anything wrong with this movie, and frankly, I don't want to. When the movie ended, I felt completely satiated. And judging by all of the applause in the crowd, so did my fellow filmgoers. So what I recommend to you, is embrace your inner geek. Become one with the yoda inside you. I officially and wholeheartedly endorse this film and urge everyone to do the same. Now turn around while I push up my glasses and adjust my pocket protector.