By Jake Howell jake.howell@utoronto.ca

The Torontonian Reviews: Imogene

Posted Monday, September 10th, 2012 - 1 Comment »
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[On Monday night, Imogene sold to Lionsgate/Roadside Attractions. – ed.]

Co-directors Robert Pulcini and Shari Springer Berman are not to blame for the suck that is Imogene: rather, the directing duo’s only fault is likely their decision to direct this cookie-cutter film, which drags on for far too long and is predictable from minute one.

Imogene (Kristen Wiig) is a playwright with writer’s block, and desperately seeks stability in her life, which abruptly falls apart after losing both her job and her boyfriend. Due to flagging mental health, Imogene is forced to crash at home, alongside her neurotic mother (Annette Bening) and man-child brother. (In other words, the basic set-up for a good chunk of Sundance comedies.)

Imogene is a vast disappointment, especially given the utter hilarity and greatness of 2011’s Bridesmaids. Bridesmaids went far last year, going the distance with many awards and cementing itself on plenty of Top-10 lists—mine included. More importantly, Bridesmaids made Imogene an easy sell in terms of anticipation: the world wants more Wiig, and I can’t imagine anyone is particularly upset to see her gaining more feature roles. Though her cameo career has been rather priceless thus far, Wiig is too good to be relegated to the sidelines.

In retrospect, I’m not sure what I expected of Imogene. I suppose I wanted something like Bridesmaids 2, or at the very least, The Kristen Wiig Show all over again, given how impeccable her comedic timing proves to be. But this isn’t the Kristen Wiig movie we want to see, and is essentially a waste of her talent. The same is said of the remaining cast, excepting perhaps Glee guy Darren Criss. The dude can sing—I’ll give him that. That Imogene‘s moments of mirth exist only in the nuances of Wiig’s physicality says much about the script, and even more about Wiig as a comedic genius. Her performance—along with one or two quips from Annette Bening—save Imogene from being worse than it already is.

It’s difficult to admit that Imogene is largely unfunny. And yet we can only point the finger at the screenwriter, because Imogene is cliched in its sensibilities and contrived in its plot devices. Despite Imogene’s freaky family and bizarre side-stories, we’ve still somehow seen this movie before. Rest assured: even the most braindead of audiences will be prescient here, and the inevitable trailer on YouTube won’t help the film’s predicability. The flashes of Wiiggy goodness leave much to be desired, because Imogene lacks both a pulse for narrative and a mind for humour. The film is flatter than the prairies of Manitoba.

Imogene is a silly, pointless film; trying its hardest to seem cute and quirky while pushing as few envelopes as possible. This is timid – nay, tepid – writing, folks; suggesting scriptwriter Michelle Morgan has little to say and lots to throw out.

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Posted in MCN Originals, Movie City News, TIFF Originals, Toronto Film Festival | 1 Comment »

One Response to “The Torontonian Reviews: Imogene”

  1. Pure Sophistry says:
    September 12, 2012 at 12:55 am

    We at Pure Sophistry also attended the premier screening in Toronto, and heartily disagree with you, good sir. We thought it was a funny, if overly sentimental movie that deserves to be seen! Here’s why! http://www.puresophistry.com/2012/09/12/imogene-review-tiff-2012/

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It shows how out of it I was in trying to be in it, acknowledging that I was out of it to myself, and then thinking, “Okay, how do I stop being out of it? Well, I get some legitimate illogical narrative ideas” — some novel, you know?

So I decided on three writers that I might be able to option their material and get some producer, or myself as producer, and then get some writer to do a screenplay on it, and maybe make a movie.

And so the three projects were “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,” “Naked Lunch” and a collection of Bukowski. Which, in 1975, forget it — I mean, that was nuts. Hollywood would not touch any of that, but I was looking for something commercial, and I thought that all of these things were coming.

There would be no Blade Runner if there was no Ray Bradbury. I couldn’t find Philip K. Dick. His agent didn’t even know where he was. And so I gave up.

I was walking down the street and I ran into Bradbury — he directed a play that I was going to do as an actor, so we know each other, but he yelled “hi” — and I’d forgot who he was.

So at my girlfriend Barbara Hershey’s urging — I was with her at that moment — she said, “Talk to him! That guy really wants to talk to you,” and I said “No, fuck him,” and keep walking.

But then I did, and then I realized who it was, and I thought, “Wait, he’s in that realm, maybe he knows Philip K. Dick.” I said, “You know a guy named—” “Yeah, sure — you want his phone number?”

My friend paid my rent for a year while I wrote, because it turned out we couldn’t get a writer. My friends kept on me about, well, if you can’t get a writer, then you write.”
~ Hampton Fancher

“That was the most disappointing thing to me in how this thing was played. Is that I’m on the phone with you now, after all that’s been said, and the fundamental distinction between what James is dealing with in these other cases is not actually brought to the fore. The fundamental difference is that James Franco didn’t seek to use his position to have sex with anyone. There’s not a case of that. He wasn’t using his position or status to try to solicit a sexual favor from anyone. If he had — if that were what the accusation involved — the show would not have gone on. We would have folded up shop and we would have not completed the show. Because then it would have been the same as Harvey Weinstein, or Les Moonves, or any of these cases that are fundamental to this new paradigm. Did you not notice that? Why did you not notice that? Is that not something notable to say, journalistically? Because nobody could find the voice to say it. I’m not just being rhetorical. Why is it that you and the other critics, none of you could find the voice to say, “You know, it’s not this, it’s that”? Because — let me go on and speak further to this. If you go back to the L.A. Times piece, that’s what it lacked. That’s what they were not able to deliver. The one example in the five that involved an issue of a sexual act was between James and a woman he was dating, who he was not working with. There was no professional dynamic in any capacity.

~ David Simon