Liberal Arts| B
For
some, the idea of returning to college life — when conversations bubbled up
with unexpected ferocity, friendships were easily forged, arguments about books
or music could go on for hours, and adult responsibility was but an abstract
point on the distant horizon — is a romantic fantasy fueled by happy memories
and real-world weariness. For Josh Radnor’s character, Jesse Fisher, it’s proof
that the 35-year-old college admissions officer has yet to grow up. Emotionally
and professionally stalled, his job is an undemanding dead end, and his
girlfriend has left him to the shelves of books that consume his tiny New York apartment.
So
when Jesse’s mentor and favorite college professor, Peter Hoberg (the wonderful
Richard Jenkins), asks him to speak at his retirement dinner, he jumps at the
chance to spend a weekend back at his alma mater, Kenyon College, in Ohio.
Surrounded by kids half his age but giddy with nostalgia, he connects with
Zibby (Elizabeth Olsen), a precocious and radiant sophomore. Friendship and the
hint of something more sparks, and Jesse returns to New York with a CD of
Zibby’s favorite classical music. This ignites an old-fashioned relationship
via letters that grows increasingly intimate. Before long, Zibby is inviting
Jesse back to campus to visit her. Confronted with the possibility of romance,
Jesse struggles to reconcile the difference in their ages and the allure of
returning to campus life, if only vicariously. Ironically, this puts him in
sync with Peter, who suddenly feels lost without his job, unable to move into
the next stage of his life.
Yeah,
it’s a coming-of-age movie of sorts, only one where the 19-year-old girl
inspires the 35-year-old man to finally start acting his age. Along the way,
Radnor’s Jesse meets a free-spirited dropout (Zac Efron playing the wise fool)
and a depressed literature student (John Magaro) who totes around David Foster
Wallace’s Infinite Jest. One encourages him to accept what he desires,
the other forces him to behave like the adult he should be. Throw in the
wonderfully acerbic Allison Janney as an English professor Jesse once admired
and now beds, and you have a gentle campus comedy that seems to emulate the delicate
yet chatty characters in éric Rohmer’s work.
While
there’s much to admire about writer-director Radnor’s warm and bittersweet Liberal
Arts, his clunky first act and overly self-content conclusion keep it from
resonating past its amiable 97-minute running time. Part of the problem is that
Jesse mostly registers as a blank. He’s smart and funny, somewhat elitist in
his tastes, and discontent with the path his life has taken, but otherwise not
very complicated. In sum, very similar to the character Radnor plays on the
sitcom How I Met Your Mother. Thankfully, he never crosses into man-boy
cutesiness.
As
a filmmaker, however, Radnor is far more observant and tender. His dialogue
pops with smart and insightful moments — a debate over the value of Stephenie Meyer’s
Twilight novels is particularly astute — and he handles his relationship
with Zibby with extraordinary sensitivity, keeping it both real and
appropriately awkward. Radnor understands why some older people are both
attractive and attracted to the young. Their insights on life, their social
confidence, and just the right amount of disillusionment can be seductive,
catalyzing into a unique kind of chemistry, especially in an environment that
encourages endless self-exploration.
Of
course, it helps that Radnor has the luminous Olsen shouldering Zibby’s
high-minded naïveté. Her performance is marvelously naturalistic and utterly
convincing … and reflective of where Liberal Arts shines brightest.
Jenkins, Janney and Efron are each similarly terrific, and Radnor is smart
enough to let them steal the scenes right out from under him. Each echoes the
challenges of growing up and growing old, and all make clear that there is real
value in academia, where the life of the mind dares us to find a suitably human
home for all its lofty ideas.
Opens
Friday at Landmark Main Art Theatre, 118 N. Main, Royal Oak, 248-263-2111.
This article appears in Oct 17-23, 2012.