Garden State (7/10)

So I was a little disappointed. Just a little. Garden State is quirky. But like most freshmen films -- it is written and directed by first-timer Zaff Braff -- it is too impressed by its quirkiness.

It's odd, really. Many films seem to think that if they're hip and stylish, they can get away with being mushy, as if their quirkiness buy them credits toward sentimentality. Most of Spielberg films fall into this catagory, as did I Heart Huckabees. Garden State is not overly sentimental, but all the existential and relational angst that it has juggled for 90 minutes fall too neatly in place in the last ten minutes. And, throughout the ending scenes, the film is a relentless point-making machine, settling scores and offering axiomatic nuggets of life wisdom with scary and pretentious efficiency.

I forgive it -- up to this point, the film has been honest, sharp and observant. Zaff Braff, of the Scrubs fame, is endlessly watchable. His comatose demeanor and dry delivery are a pleasure to behold, and his script is filled with cool characters. Natalie Portman also turns in a sympathetic and charming performance that is hard not to adore, and provides a worthy spirit to the film's weighty center. And there were scenes of simple brilliance, such as the opening scene or the knight-in-kitchen scene. Most of the time, it is an incredible first feature, and shows a lot of promise.

But then, occasionally, it makes hard and difficult turns toward the conventional. The father-son relationship is handled with a wave of the hand -- how typical for a non-psychiatrist to show more insight into life than a psychiatrist! And several of the "poignant" scenes feel like Natalie Portman trying to squeeze tears from our eyes. Plus, we would all be better off with fewer scenes of people shouting into an abyss. Still, Garden State is an entertaining ride through teenage angst. And, in his next feature, if Zaff Braff can steer clear of the mind-numbing medication of canned sentimentality, then, well, we might all start to feel something.

problem

Ah, I just realized the character flaw that defines me. I take too close to heart the saying that "the higher you climb, the harder you fall". And I'm so afraid of a fall that I hardly attempt a climb at all. So there I am, sitting half a mountain up, going to classes, doing homework, working late nights, with no intention of reaching much higher, but content that I'm not any place worse. Sure, it's nice to have no illusions, but I've also become utterly predictable and stagnant. Certainly I can achieve nothing greater in my life than what I can recover from in its failure. And that's boring.

And now I'm starting to be dissatisfied with my contentment...