AWAY WE GO Review: Sam Mendes' Road Trip
Burt and Verona are a perfectly happy couple. It's everyone else who's crazy.
Comfortably ensconced in a long-term relationship, bearded Burt (John Krasinski) and pregnant Verona (Maya Rudolph) are dismayed to learn that John's parents (Jeff Daniels and Catherine O'Hara) will be moving away to Belgium, even before Verona is expected to deliver their grandchild. The young couple had moved to the Northeastern United States to be closer to his parents and were counting on them to provide support. The anxiety levels skyrocket for the soon-to-be first-time parents.
"We don't have to stay here," Verona remarks to Burt, setting in motion a cross-continent road trip as the young couple decides where they want to settle down and raise their family.
Away We Go, directed by Sam Mendes from a script by real-life couple Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida, feels like it should have been set in the late 60s. Apparently untethered for the first time in their lives, the 30-something Burt and Verona more closely resemble a teenaged hippie couple, products of the love generation. They should be setting off to explore their sexuality and spirituality in San Francisco instead of fecklessly searching for the security of built-in babysitters.
Their first stop is Phoenix, Arizona, the sun-kissed suburban home of Verona's younger, hot-looking single sister Grace (Carmen Ejogo). She's not really in a position to provide the kind of backup that Verona is sure she needs, so it's onward to nearby Tucson, where white trash Lily (Allison Janney) and Lowell (Jim Gaffigan) are way too eager to greet them at the airport. (Lowell especially, after he gloms on to the bottle of wine that Jim brought along to offer as a gift.) "White trash" may be too pejorative a description for Lily and Lowell, but their conduct is so noisy and boorish that it seems fitting. They're the embodiment of what Burt and Verona don't want to become: bad parents. Selfish to a fault, Lily and Lowell are bumming their way through life without much care or thought about their place in it.
Faced with that kind of nightmare, why would Burt and Verona ever consider moving near them and allow them to influence their family? Not for the first time, the question arises about the couple's own stability and maturity. I can definitely understand wanting to be near family or friends, but Verona admits she never much cared for Lily when they worked together in a Chicago office. How desperate is Verona for company? What went wrong in her own life that she hasn't been able to make friends? References are made to the short time the couple lived near Burt's parents, and Verona's home-based business, but they sound more like 'after the fact' excuses than reasons.
Still, they seem lost, and it's hard not to feel empathy for the likable duo as they continue to question their own parental fitness. Well, it's really Burt that appears to have the greater insecurity, which is put to the test when they travel to Madison, Wisconsin, and visit Burt's old friend LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and her partner Roderick (Josh Hamilton), who turn out to be a good deal crazier than educated people should be. And they're both left in a state of puzzlement after crossing the border into Canada and spending an evening with the seemingly awesome Tom (Chris Messina), Munch (Melanie Lynskey), and their huge extended family of adopted children from all races and countries of the world.
The script sets up each of the potential "new best friends" as straw men, leading to Burt and Verona eventually discovering what's truly important to them. In that sense, it falls into a schematic rhythm that is easily distinguished. We know that each situation will lead to the exposure of a fatal flaw, because Burt and Verona are, well, perfect. They never argue, they're always kind and reasonable with each other, they banter good-naturedly, and they're unfailingly polite and respectful with strangers and old friends alike.
Indeed, Burt and Verona are so exceedingly pleasant that the running time passes quickly and painlessly.
Away We Go isn't as substantial as one might hope -- there are no great insights into human nature -- yet on the other hand there are no trumped-up, stormy, life-changing, flesh-ripping-from-bones discovories made by the two main characters. It feels like the perfect summer movie for adults: funny, good-looking, and good-natured. And it features one of the rarest, most refreshing things I've seen on screen in a very long time: a couple who don't argue, fight, exchange cross words, or go to bed mad at one another. Wow! It must be love.
One final thought: Sam Mendes is a fine craftsman who exists solely to serve the material -- good, bad or indifferent -- that he directs. That is all.
