Jazz, film, and improvised culture.
Careful What You Wish For: Welcome to Lake Lure
is summer—the time when movies assume all teens turn into hormonal-charged Neanderthals.
Granted, puberty is not so conducive to good decision making, but you would
expect more from Doug Martin, since he looks nearly as old as his parents.
Regardless, Martin is in for a throwback 1980s-style summer vacation of fun,
sun, sex, and a dead body. Fortunately, the very married Lena Harper is hot,
making her worth the trouble for the smitten Martin. However, he has no idea
how deep to doo-doo will get in Elizabeth Allen Rosenbaum’s Careful What You Wish For (trailer here), which opens this
Friday in New York.
is eighteen and chiseled—yet never been kissed. It must be his personality. The
sullen youth and his parents will be enjoying several months of summer vacation
at Lake Lure (real name) in neighborly Rutherford County, North Carolina.
Speaking of neighbors, a new couple have just moved in and Martin cannot stop ogling
hot blonde trophy wife Lena Harper. Rather awkwardly, her super-loaded husband
Elliott hires Martin to refurbish his vintage yacht. Elliott Harper is such an
obnoxious, abusive, nouveau riche venture capitalist, he is just begging to get
killed, which will happen soon enough, once Martin and Mrs. Harper become
course, Lena Harper assures Martin it was an accident. Given the suspicious
circumstances, he duly disposes of the body. Salt-of-the-earth “Sheriff Big
Jack” is definitely not inclined to make waves, so that probably would have
been the end of it, had the insurance investigator not turned up. You know
there was a big policy and who the sole beneficiary will be, but it is all news
to Martin. From there, things get very Double
Indemnity for him, but not nearly as stylish.
CWYWF would be a ton of fun if savored
with a dozen or so beach housemates over a long weekend, but it would just be
weird to watch it in a theater. It would have been cheesy in the eighties. That’s
all well and good, but there is no point in viewing it when you don’t feel
comfortable talking back to the screen.
kids, Nick Jonas just doesn’t work as eighteen-year-old Martin. He looks like a
gym rat in his late twenties and has the screen presence of a socially stunted
twelve-year-old. Isabel Lucas’s Lena Harper is similarly lovely but entirely
substance-free. At least Dermot Mulroney seems to be having a blast snarling at
Jonas and Lucas while munching on the scenery. Paul Sorvino also does his thing
as Sheriff Big Jack, even though he hardly seems the good old boy type.
Oh those silly Millennials. They really will
fall for anything. Of course the rest of us are so far ahead of the film, it
takes Chris Frisina’s screenplay about one hundred twenty-five minutes to catch
up to where we know it is going. Not really recommended per se, the ironic
and/or nostalgic should still give it a hung-over look-see when the time is
right. For now, it opens this Friday (6/10) in New York, at the Cinema Village.
Labels: Dermot Mulroney, Paul Sorvino