Reviews: “The Party” and “Game Night”
It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt in "The Party" and "Game Night"
A blistering comedy of bourgeois blues, Sally Potter has assembled a brilliant cast for The Party (★★★½). The soirée in question is intended to be a festive affair celebrating a major political accomplishment for British lawmaker Janet (Kristin Scott Thomas). But as Janet preps her pastries and pops the bubbly, the envisioned swell evening spins wildly and angrily out of the hostess’ control.
First, several of the guests arrive noticeably unsettled, including Janet’s dear friend April (Patricia Clarkson), a quick-witted force of nature. While it wouldn’t necessarily be so amusing to have a friend like April running roughshod over everyone’s high spirits at your own dinner party, it’s a treat to watch her blow poisoned darts at every jugular assembled here.
Her main target is her longtime companion Gottfried (Bruno Ganz), a New Age nonsense-spouting healer from whom April insists she’s separating after this one last social obligation. She spends the evening deriding him as a pretentious phony, not that it appears to bother him too terribly. In fact, any one of Janet’s guests might be accused of being pretentious and at least a little bit phony — especially as one or more in this assortment of well-heeled husbands and wives is plotting to take off with a secret lover by the end of the party. They are, at times, an insufferably self-centered crew.
Potter gets the party started by dropping a needle on a record, just one signal, along with the black-and-white cinematography, that she means to delve beyond the façades of polite company into the complicated lives — and lies — of grownups. She paces the film well, working from an urbane script that efficiently introduces the characters — like happily coupled lesbians Martha and Jinny (Cherry Jones and Emily Mortimer), or coke-snorting financer Tom (Cillian Murphy) — and whatever mystery might loom over their fates.
Although the characters tend to fit too tidily into types, including Janet’s brooding, overshadowed husband Bill (Timothy Spall), the performances add dimension that deepens the mounting mysteries. The revelations start to trickle out, pouring forth to the point of deluge.
The crisp, lovely cinematography reflects the desired warm intimacy of the occasion, even while providing an unsentimental view of the real-looking faces of these mid-life warriors. Both the camera and the story seem to adopt the attitude of April, the hardened realist, who sees beyond the romance of middle-class contentment. She takes it upon herself to puncture everyone’s illusions, much as the film slyly attempts to do.
“You’re a first-class lesbian and a second-class thinker,” she tells Martha, not intending to be mean, just honest. Unlike everyone else at this party, April doesn’t invest outsized hope in happy endings. But she’s a great shoulder to cry on, and a most memorable screen presence, thanks to sharp dialogue and Clarkson’s withering delivery. She drops a wealth of brutal knowledge on this party.
To its credit, the movie also shares April’s shrewd sense of timing. Often turning to droll observations during the most dire moments, the character uses her awareness and wit as weapon and defense. Still, even she, the clear-eyed realist, doesn’t see the kicker of an ending coming any more than her pal Janet does.
THE OFFBEAT COMEDY GAME NIGHT (★★★) does its damndest to puncture middle class illusions of comfort and joy, and gets most of the way there. But like many studio comedies that come on with bawdy foreplay, and a few hilariously cringe-inducing set-pieces, all roads ultimately lead back to cute couples living happily ever after.
Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams star as Max and Annie, an adorably hyper-competitive, games-mad married couple. The movie tosses the hip suburbanites and their pals — fellow marrieds Michelle and Kevin (Kylie Bunbury and Lamorne Morris) and cheery airhead Ryan (Billy Magnussen) with date-of-the-week Sarah (Sharon Horgan) — down a spiraling rabbit-hole of underworld hijinks.
Their interactive murder mystery game night gets hijacked by actual criminals who kidnap Max’s cooler, more successful, “and hotter” venture capitalist brother Brooks (Kyle Chandler). He’s the Stingray-driving Mark Wahlberg to Max’s Donnie, in the movie’s movie-loving parlance.
The zingy script by Mark Perez (Herbie Fully Loaded, go figure) immerses the characters in pop culture, with hit-or-miss movie and celebrity references that won’t improve the comedy’s shelf-life, but help ground the outlandish action and violence in this reality. One film not referenced explicitly beyond the title and the plot is David Fincher’s 1997 thriller The Game, though it seems like a movie that Gen Xers Max and Annie probably have seen.
Adventures in Babysitting and Date Night, both pleasant romps about likable suburbanites’ caught up in the inner city after hours, might be more their speed. And speed is where the movie falters, under the co-direction of John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein, who do a fine job of setting up and paying off scares and sight gags, but whose narrative rhythm is off-kilter.
The hilarity and guns-blazing action tends to hustle hard, then rest, occasionally petering to a weak pause filled with a relationship counseling moment between one of the game night pairs. It’s a pleasure to see the entire ensemble run with their moments to shine, but those chats tend to drag, and Max and Annie’s will-they-or-won’t-they decide to have a baby never contributes much to the suspense or the laughs.
On the other hand, Magnussen puts a hysterical spin on himbo Ryan, and Jesse Plemons nearly steals the movie as Max and Annie’s freshly-divorced cop neighbor Gary, who’s all kinds of funny: funny ha-ha, funny weird, funny, he wasn’t standing there five seconds ago. The co-directors might overdo the heartfelt interludes, but they add just the right amount of Gary to the insane mix.
Game Night is rated R, and opens in theaters everywhere on Friday, February 23. Visit fandango.com.
The Party is rated R, and is in theaters now. Visit fandango.com.
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