Up in the Air. Critically acclaimed and rightfully so, Jason Reitman (Juno, Thank You for Smoking) adds to his impressive resume’. George Clooney is so deft and smart he veers into Cary Grant territory, and when you are looking for sexual chemistry, the definition is Clooney and Vera Farmiga. The message, about disconnectedness and love, is ready-made for debate over drinks after the movie, while the dialogue and the performances are uniformly crisp.
In a sea of asinine “I always get the bridesmaid dress, I’m a wacky misunderstood gal, hey, there’s my Romeo and whoda’ thunk I fall for such a Neanderthalic misogynist,” Up in the Air is a refreshing comedy about adults. One other note, in what is becoming a hallmark of Reitman’s, there are 3 or 4 moments in the film where a lesser director or writer might have done something different and more obvious, and it would have been understandable, but Reitman does not and the film is much better for it.
Minor nits – the idea of outsourcing firings to a company specializing in same, including using them in face-to-face “we’re letting you go” encounters, seems contrived, and Anna Kendrick gets by with one too many facial tics (oh, that’s surprise!, of, that’s hurt!).