Dir. Bart Freundlich, US, 2005, 123 min
Cast: Julianne Moore, David Duchovny, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Billy Crudup
Review by Johnny Messias
Men and women, babies, commitment, pornography - it's a problem.
Another one is: how do you make a romantic comedy cute and funny while trying to say something new about the game? Sometimes you don't.
Cut to: New York City. Two couples in their thirties are having issues that keep them up at night and their therapists solvent. David Duchovny is Tom, househusband to successful actress Rebecca, played by Julianne Moore. Their libidos are way out of synch and Tom's predilection for porn and wham-bam sex leads them both to frustration. The other amusing/dysfunctional couple are Rebecca's younger brother, Tobey (Billy Crudup) and his live-in girlfriend, Elaine (Maggie Gyllenhaal). You'll recognise Tobey's character by his little goatee, hoodies, and American sports fixation: commitment-shy slacker alert. It's harder to place Gyllenhaal, as her character doesn't add up. She's an aspiring children's novelist (and romantic) who works in a big publishing house and seems really together. Yet not only does she stay with Tobey for years, but she also takes his ridiculous advice when it comes to things that are really important to her.
It's not the only part that doesn't add up in Trust the Man. Unbelievable scenes just keep happening. Prime example: Tobey's ex girlfriend randomly shows up, and she is Eva Mendes - incredibly attractive and married to a gangster rapper type. So, naturally she invites Tobey to a nightclub and offers to rump him silly because - hey! - life is too short not to. This is preceded by some dance floor action, where he segues from "not really being a dancer" to performing a Run DMC-style, break dance sequence cheered on by the entire club (naturally).
In among all of this, there is some crass physical comedy. I suppose this depends on how you feel about scenes with David Duchovny jerking-off, or being punched in the balls, or Julianne Moore's bout of pre-coital hurling. She, of course, is still a class act, but you always get the feeling you've seen the same emotional beats before, in better films. She can blame her husband Bart Freundlich for this, who directed this film: squeezing one or two laughs out before sinking into a sump of total nonsense.
For the grand finale, it's as if Mr Freundlich had suffered a stroke, paralysing his grasp on reality. Something quite ludicrous happens at Rebecca's Broadway play, when Tom and Toby go after the gals they love. None of the characters get even close to being charming enough to make this scene play. Buttock-clenching embarrassment ensues, and that's before Billy Crudup delivers the line: "I don't want to be a cold, sarcastic, blocked off man any more!"
Moral of the story: boyfriends or husbands who are emotionally/sexually retarded will at some point, flip a switch and see the error of their ways - hang in there girls!
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