92 newyork| october12–25, 2020
every server and maître d’ and, as he dem-
onstrates in the most memorable scene in
the movie, every cop in the city, too. Doors
open for him, and people turn his way like
plants toward the sun, and as much as she
tries to pretend otherwise, Laura (played
by Jones like a living expressionless-face
emoji) craves his attention too. He just
seems to live in a more vivid, colorful New
York than she does, an older and cooler ver-
sion of the city in which you can sit at the
table where Humphrey Bogart proposed to
Lauren Bacall and eat caviar while loung-
ing outside the Soho House in a convertible
spying on your son-in-law.
On the Rocks feels, for a Coppola movie,
unusually drab, though at least some of
that’s by design. The life Laura and Dean
share is laid out in precise, exacting details
that are destined to enrage anyone who
has ever taken issue with the director’s
tendency to tell stories about the rich. It’s
an existence rooted in wealth but pre-
sented as mundanely middle class—which
reflects how it feels to Laura, who sees her-
self as reduced to being another mom in
the school drop-off line, drained of vitality
compared with her father, whose existence
is touched by magic. On the Rocks isn’t a
great movie, but it’s one overflowing with
feelings that it tries to squash into some-
thing tidier. Among them are fear of for-
ever being scarred by a father who up and
left, anger at how easily he still indulges
his impulses while she’s trapped behaving
sensibly, and a broader resentment at how
aging can differ for men and women. If it’s
difficult to reconcile those raw-edged emo-
tions with the pat conclusion On the Rocks
arrives at, it’s because the film never really
manages to do that either. ■onhergadaboutfather, Felix(BillMur-
ray),forcommiserationandadvice.After
all,Felixhadanaffairandleft hermother
backwhenLaura wasgrowingup,sohe
shouldknow.Felixisalltoodelightedat
thechancetoplayinfidelityconsultant—
“Canyoujustact a littlelessexcitedabout
this?Becausethisis mylife,andit
mightbefallingapart,” hisdaugh-
tercomplains—andsoonthetwo
arebouncingaroundManhattan
andthenhaulingofftoa Mexican
resortinhopesoffiguringoutif
Dean is sleeping with hisco-
worker Fiona (Jessica Henwick).
It’s a lark, and not aterriblyengaging
one, but then there areallthesemassive
unprocessed emotionspokingoutfrom
below the surface of thestorylike ice-
bergs that have to be franticallynavigated
around. Laura’s on the cuspofturning40,
and midlife malaise is guidingwhathap-
pens at least as much asworry abouther
relationship with her husbandis (“Idon’t
know why women get plasticsurgery,”Felix
muses helpfully after informinghisdaugh-
ter that “a woman’s at hermost beautiful
between the ages of 35 and39”).Fionamay
be young and beautiful, but she’s alsounen-
cumbered, free to give her full focustoone
thing while Laura is split betweenshep-
herding the kids around, failing towritethe
book she sold, and trying to make themost
of the rare moments she has alonewith
Dean. Coppola, an auteur who hasdevoted
her career to exploring differentfacetsof
girlishness, has crafted a lightly depressive
elegy to the quality—a story aboutsome-
one who realizes she’s crossing beyondits
insulating, stifling borders and wondering
what is on the other side.
If, in Lost in Translation, Murray was
playing a temporary suitor as father figure
to Scarlett Johansson, here he’s playinga
father as substitute suitor, squiringhis little
girl around town when her husband’s too
busy. But it’s not Laura’s marriage or, forthatmatter,hercareerthat is the true driver
ofthemovie.Herrelationship remains in
thebackground,morea concept than a
nuancedreality, andthedetails of her book
areneverdiscussed.Themore time Laura
spendswithFelix,a chaotically outsize fig-
urewhowhisksheraway to boozy lunches
andinsistsontaking her out to
the‘21’clubforher birthday, the
moreit becomesclear that he is
theoneshe’s really fretting about.
Or,rather,heandeverything he’s
come to represent about who gets
to leave and to start over and who
stays behind picking up the toys
andfeeling like romance and gallantry are
forever behind her.
Felix, played by Murray with a careless
charmthat’s as familiar as it is still effec-
tive,appears to glide through life without
exerting any visible effort. He’s a successful
artdealer who habitually flirts with every
woman he sees and who knows the name ofTV / MATT ZOLLER SEITZ
Angry BirdThe story of John Brown, toldwith righteous fury.PHOTOGRAPH: COURTESY OF APPLE
ethan hawke’s rage-filled croak as abolitionist John
Brown in The Good Lord Bird is biblically awesome. It’s not just
deeper and more gravelly than his everyday speaking voice; it’s a geyser
of fury that seems to erupt from his innards like demonic ectoplasm es-
caping the body of a possessed soul in a horror mov-
ie. When Brown launches into a sermon aimedat
slavery-defending sinners, his hands grip the buttsof
his six-shooters, and his face and body knot upand
twist like a hangman’s rope. His veins throb. Spittle
flies. His eye color seems to darken. None ofthisis
a special effect. It’s Hawke feeling Brown feelingtheON THE ROCKS
DIRECTED
BY SOFIA COPPOLA.
OCTOBER 23.
APPLE TV+.
R.
THE GOOD
LORD BIRD
SHOWTIME.
Rashida Jones
and Bill Murray.