Review: "Up in the Air"

Opening up with a barrage of emotionally-charged invective from fistfuls of soon-to-be job hunters, the young Jason Reitman proves to all of us that he wasn't merely established on this earth of ours to meld offbeat folk tunage to a hip teen-magnet production. Take his latest character study as an example. There's a stunning maturity in the work that heralds something much greater than mere versatility or even diversity. That, my friends, is wisdom (I know that might sound a bit high-horse but hear me out for a sec). Operating in the gray zone of the recent market downturn, the movie, which centers on the life and times of one Ryan Bingham, a trumped-up corporate ax man who doles out pink slips like party favors to the weary masses, takes off into a murky formation of cumulus only to descend like an ashen snowflake delivering a potent coming-home tale in a truly unexpected package. It's tinged with the stuff of Dickensian tragedy and yet there's a funny-because-they're-not-trying-to-be-funny charm to it. And in this lies its greatest asset.

The lack of pretension, in spite of all those things which would lead you to believe the contrary, is a straight-shooting signal that Reitman doesn't want to waste his time (or ours) trying to prove that he's insightful beyond what his age might imply. As his third major feature, "Up in the Air" was actually the one Reitman had his sights set on the whole time. Familiar elements abound but it's clear that this project was something quite near and dear to our little auteur. It's not quite so bitterly tongue-in-cheek as "Thank You for Smoking" and nowhere near as plucky as "Juno". But it's definitely somewhere on the fence that seperates those two extremes. Based off a nearly decade-old novel that Reitman picked up in a Los Angeles bookstore in 2001 by Walter Kirn ("Thumbsucker"), whose success somewhat tapered off in the aftermath of 9/11-minded air travelers, infatuation quickly ensued. Everything until then, as it were, built up to this moment to which we've been allowed access. With a droll white-washed apartment and a fridge more like a SkyBar to live out of on the days when he's not flying around the country "kicking people out of the boat", Bingham is the lonely 21st-Century careerist incarnate. And, apparently, he's loving every minute of it.

George Clooney's silvery nonchalance could make the recitation of in-flight safety procedural authoritatively riveting and he brings that same sort of diligent coolness found in his earlier role as the less-than-honest lawyer Michael Clayton in 2007 to Bingham, twisting it to fit something a little more user-friendly. But while most anyone with a weak spot for chiseled features such as his might be drawn to this like downsizing to a bad economy, the humanity of his character far outweighs any god-given physical prowess that might elevate him above the average Joes he's canning. And it would be a crime to say that he is the only standout. Perhaps it's because I'm a sucker for her but Anna Kendrick (yes, the one in "New Moon") is as lovably perky and full of life as when she first appeared as the speed-talking love interest of 2007's "Rocket Science" by Jeffrey Blitz. Only... a little less of a bitch this time around. In either case, she's repeatedly proven a standout and from what I hear about the Twilight series, she continues to perform admirably in her chosen typecast. Though she stands at a summit of character actors which comprise Reitman's newest exploration (e.g. long-time collaborator JK Simmons, the consistently enigmatic Jason Bateman and even Sam Elliott), it's all just icing in the end. No amount of idiosyncratic fluff could have driven this film if it weren't without that little something special which I mentioned earlier. Do you remember what that was?

There's an honesty between lines spoken but I'm not just talking about the way Clooney sternly spouts travel tips about Asian businessmen or the merits of Platinum Card perks. Beneath all the energetic style there's a very real message that doesn't try to infantilize us. It acknowledges the harsh reality of the emerging realm we currently face and doesn't flinch when it just comes out and says what needs to be said. Like Bingham asserts in the film, he's not here to offer hope or a life preserver. Only condolences in a time when people are cutting-and-running with their losses. That may be true for him but the film is another matter entirely. While things appear bleak; while laid-off employees lament a la talking heads on all-too-real-world terms; while the would-be hero, who profits as the world seems to crumble around him, is completely at odds with the prospect of a meaningful relationship, there is the faintest gleam of what might be only be described as a Magic Eightball message of stoicism, telling us to hang on even when we can't. While that may not be soothing exactly, the gleeful charm with which Reitman (as well as Clooney) has wooed us with in the past comes to bear once more, leaving us with something more than just tomorrow's dreary classifieds. So, in spite of the fact that it seems like we're all dancing our way to a hell of our own making, we may in fact be doing something much more than that if it is indeed true that "a little is enough". Especially in times as dark as these.