A reserved man with unresolved childhood issues returns to his hometown to attend his parent’s funeral. This is not only the premise of Robert Schwartzman’s well-meaning but shy “The Good Half,” but it’s also the recurring premise of many a sad American comedy-drama, from “Elizabethtown” to “Garden State” to “This Is Where I Leave You.”
To point out this thematic recurrence isn’t necessarily to diminish one of cinema’s favorite themes—after all, familial grief is one of the most common and relatable human pains. And what are movies if not an echo of those experiences? But you still go into a film like The Good Half hoping it has something to say about the pain of grief. Instead, the film feels like a mishmash of similar (and often better) films that came before it.
“No one ever told me that grief was so much like fear,” C.S. Lewis wrote in his 1961 book, “Observed Grief.” The quote doesn’t appear anywhere in “The Good Half,” but the story begins on roughly that same note of fear. The film opens with young Ren Welland (Mason Kovari) and his eccentric mother Lily (Elisabeth Shue, doing her best in an unwritten role) trying to comfort her son, who has just been forgotten at a mall. In the parking lot, she promises him she’ll never leave him in a store again. Ren, however, demands more reassurance. “You’ll never leave me? One hundred percent?” he anxiously wants to know, and behind her back, he asks his mother to make a lifelong promise she knows she won’t be able to keep.
Two decades later, an older Ren (a reclusive, low-energy Nick Jonas) finally gets the call he’s been dreading his whole life, from his crying sister: “She’s gone.” As Ren makes his way through the airport back to his Cleveland home, a series of voicemails arrive that effectively inform the audience of his situation. He’s a Los Angeles-based writer with a job that pays the bills and he doesn’t love it, but he somehow gets promoted. His sister Lee (a wonderful Brittany Snow, who was underrated in the different film) could use his help with everything. His father Darren (Matt Walsh) has his own luggage, and so on. On the plane ride, Zoe (a lovely Alexandra Shipp from “Barbie”)—a therapist—enters the picture, much like Kirsten Dunst does in “Elizabethtown.” With her sharp sense of humor and her knack for quoting Hollywood action tropes from the 80s and 90s, Zoe often brings a sunny air to the film. Shipp's role, however, feels like a clichéd performance without much depth. Still, her character proves to be a welcome presence, offering company to Ren as he navigates his difficult situation with his family.
The drama between relatives is also fairly standard. Aside from Rain’s overbearing, overbearing sister Lee—a character played with real power by Snow—there’s Lily’s annoying second husband, Rick (David Arquette), along with various moments of self-awareness at funeral parlors, heartfelt conversations at local bars, and so on. Schwartzman and screenwriter Brett Ryland intersperse these present-day scenes with flashbacks in an attempt to deepen our understanding of Lily. But despite Shaw’s best efforts, the film never really conveys what makes her special. Brief time travels reveal Lily’s terminal illness and often underscore her hilarious qualities as a harmless thief (she occasionally steals things like a teaspoon from a diner). But in its inelegant attempts to extract situational humor from these clumsy memories, the film sadly avoids real complexities and character revelations in the process.
Schwartzman, who like his brother Jason is a Coppola, is a multi-talented film and musical figure (he is best known as the lead singer of the band Ronnie), directs The Good Half with a dull, direct style, without a distinctive style of his own. Jonas, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have the dramatic power to embody the level of vulnerability his character requires. In this regard, he’s often forgotten alongside the likes of Shep and Snow.
Still, The Good Half occasionally rekindles interest with its occasional jokes and touches about supporting characters. A scene between Ren and a clothing store clerk (Ryan Bergara) in which he fondly recalls how Lily once looked after him is one of those moments that makes you lament your own fate in a richer film. But what we end up getting from The Good Half isn’t even that good.
