John (John C. Reilly) is a freelance film editor who got
divorced seven years ago and hasn’t moved forward since. When his
ex-wife (Katherine Keener) stops by to tell him she is getting
married, she insists he come to a party to get out of his funk.
Lubricated by Red Bull and vodka cocktails, John circles the room
sharing very personal soliloquies with complete strangers.
Urinating into some bushes, Molly (Marisa Tomei) stops him in
mid-stream with the line, “Nice penis,” and John finally has a
two-sided conversation. “I’m like Shrek, and you’re like a
princess,” the potato-faced John says. “Are you coming on to
me?”
But just like Shrek’s Princess Fiona, Molly has a secret. John
discovers this by following her home after a night together at his
house. While peeping into windows and skulking in bushes, John is
discovered by Molly’s rotund 21-year-old son Cyrus (Jonah Hill).
Inviting John inside, Cyrus tells John it’s great his mother has
found someone she likes, and he is sharing his newly composed
techno-pop music with John when Molly arrives home. Molly begins
dancing to the beat and is startled when she notices John is in her
living room. “He’s totally cool with me being here,” John tells her
and he interprets Molly’s incredulous look as a reaction to his
stalking instead of Cyrus’ welcome.
Over dinner, John says he is going to treat Cyrus “like a grown
up,” and tells him, “Molly and I have had sex, and we’d like to
continue to do so.” Once again, Molly’s enigmatic look offers a
clue to a past which she only reveals in little bits and pieces.
That evening in Molly’s bedroom, John reacts with quiet disbelief
as Cyrus goes into the bathroom to talk with his mom while she is
in the shower, and after Cyrus goes to his own room, Molly tells
John, “We leave the bedroom door open in my house.”
A few days later, John nods approvingly from the bed when Molly
closes the bedroom door, but their lovemaking is interrupted by
cries of terror from Cyrus’s bedroom and Molly hurries in to her
son’s room to offer comfort. We soon learn that Cyrus’ original
welcome has quickly transformed into a contest between two suitors
for Molly’s time and affection.
I should mention here that the mother-son relationship is an
unusual one, but not necessarily sexual. This ambiguity was
purposefully constructed by the independent writer/directors Jay
and Mark Duplass in their first big-budget production. As Mark
says, “We don’t have any personal agenda or feelings about whether
we say it’s good or it’s bad; we just think it’s really interesting
and fraught with beauty and peril and good fodder for making a
movie, really.” Staying true to their Mumblecore filmmaking roots,
much of the dialogue in “Cyrus” is improvised by the actors in
reaction to loosely constructed scene concepts. The result
(especially with this fine ensemble cast) is fresh and alive and
“real” in a way that conventionally scripted films seldom achieve,
but for audiences unfamiliar with the “backstory,” it leaves
certain gaps of information.
For example, we learn nothing about Molly’s former boy-friends
and how Cyrus reacted to them. Did she previously manage to keep
her romantic adventures separate from her home and son? She
home-schooled Cyrus and goes on daily photographic expeditions to
the park with him as inspiration for his musical compositions, so
what does she do to pay the bills?
And what of the clinging, faux-therapist relationship John has
with his ex-wife? Why does she encourage John to barge in at
inappropriate times at home and work with his problems, and why
does she actively participate in John’s plan to have her “check
out” Molly and Cyrus at an accidental meeting in the park?
You’ll have to provide those answers for yourself.
Comments? E-mail:
gi*********@co*****.net
.
