In the 1983 drama The Big Chill a group of estranged college friends converge on a country home in the wake of their friend Alex’s suicide and reflect on their pasts, futures, relationships, and evolving (or regressing) world views. In 2014’s About Alex a group of estranged college friends converge on a country home in the wake of their friend Alex’s attempted suicide and reflect on their pasts, futures, relationships, and evolving (or regressing) world views. If it appears as though About Alex is the millenial-inspired remake of The Big Chill, you’d be wrong. There’s plenty of differences to dispel that notion, but there isn’t anything new to add either.
As per the usual milieu of this story type, the friends in question share an openly incestuous bond, with many of the characters having had some sort of romantic entanglement in one way or another. Josh (Max Greenfield) and Sarah (Aubrey Plaza) have a destructive sexual understanding, while Josh also secretly pines for Ben’s (Nate Parker) long-time girlfriend Siri (Maggie Grace). Siri may or may not be secretly in love with Alex (Jason Ritter) or vice versa. Isaac (Max Minghella) and Kate (Jane Levy) are in the onset of a potentially serious relationship, but Isaac and Sarah may be harboring a long-dormant mutual affection – and all of these relationships set the tone for what transpires.
The jumping off point begins with Alex’s failed suicide attempt, which is all the more agonizing for two reasons: he used a Shakespeare quote as a suicide note, and he posted it via Twitter. It’s established early on that Alex has been experiencing some severe emotional distress, and that his friendship with Ben is of great importance to him. As the friends arrive at the home one by one, they have trouble side-stepping their own issues to focus on Alex’s plight.
From this point on, they trade vicious barbs back and forth, with the lion’s share coming from the cantankerous and oftentimes insufferable Josh, who hurls mean-spirited insults at his former comrades like hand grenades. It’s to be expected that a wildcard character become the focal point, and the script sets him up in the most unfortunately pretentious way. He’s an “intellectual” who struggles with a long-gestating doctoral thesis in which he doesn’t feel fully satisfied, and as such, his insecurity manifests itself into a litany of misplaced judgments. If you’re seeing a pattern of clichés here, then you’re not alone.
The straight man in the story is Ben, with his only romantic interest being Siri. Ben had a story published in The New Yorker at a young age, and has struggled to write a complete book in the time since he’s finished college. Alex has been his champion throughout, and Ben’s inability to complete his masterwork sinks Alex into a deep depression. My biggest problem with this subplot is the lack of context for this closeness. Zwick’s screenplay leaves little room for backstory, except for little facts that reveal themselves in casual interplay between all of the characters. In fact, the issue of what drove Alex into a suicidal depression isn’t explored until the third act of the film, and the motivation behind it is bizarre.
There are a few winks and nods to the similarities between this film and The Big Chill, and it can only be assumed that Jesse Zwick threw them into the story as a way to reveal that he and the rest of the cast are well aware. At one point, one of the character’s says “You know what this is like? This is like one of those eighties movies“, and when they find a stray dog in the woods, they suggest that he should be named Jeff Goldblum, one of the cast members of the The Big Chill. Unfortunately, I found myself distracted by just how alike both films are.
The last act of the film unfolds as if the writer is furiously attempting to inject some melodrama into each character’s story, and sadly, the story suffers as a result of it. The story rolls limply to its end in a very predictable way, and the more interesting cast members are left with little to do but react to the shoehorned moments of seriousness with an awkward melancholy tone creeping into the otherwise upbeat nature of the film. It certainly threw me off, and it doesn’t benefit the story at all.
In the end, About Alex is a new, modern take on the “reunion” genre that borrows more than a little from its predecessors. It benefits from a terrific, vibrant, young cast, but loses its momentum with a wholly unoriginal and uninspired plot. Writer/director Jesse Zwick shows promise, and as a first feature, the film is impressive, but it’s not likely to stay with you after the credits roll.
[Rating:3/5]
