A gathering of seven longtime friends has an ulterior motive that will bring to light the embarassing secrets they’ve all been harboring. In “The Intervention”, Annie (Melanie Lynskey) and Matt (Jason Ritter) are months away from tying the knot, but first they seek out to save the marriage of two friends, Ruby (Cobie Smulders) and Peter (Vincent Piazza), whose relationship has become toxic to everyone around them. In conjunction with Jessie (Clea Duvall), her girlfriend Sarah (Natasha Lyonne), and Jack (Ben Schwartz), the group decides to explore the last resort in the marriage of their defeated friends, and fly to their favorite vacation spot for a weekend getaway, to entice them to get a divorce before worse is done. Once Ruby and Peter realize what is going on, their defensive tactics are to sling mud and reflect the group’s own problems, declaring they aren’t as perfect as they seem. Now the getaway tests the friendship in more ways than one. Clea Duvall also writes and directs this film, that is rated R for adult language, as well as sexual references.
“The Intervention” proves that Clea Duvall has a bright future ahead as one of the riveting Romantic-Comedy directors of our modern day. What’s so enthralling about what she does here, is she takes a dominant comedic cast, known for their energetic spirit and passion to making their audience laugh, and turn everything upside down with a surprisingly eye-opening stage for all of them to prove that they are something more. What I enjoyed about this movie was that the trailers had me thinking that this was just another B-grade comedy movie, where this group of usual supporting characters throw some laughs in between a hollow plot. That is completely not the case here. Duvall’s story hints at the distinction that none of us know what is considered a normal life or relationship, and we all have problems that sometimes forces us to take a step back and focus ourselves underneath the light of criticism. Every character here feels like they play an important part in the overall outlook of this group’s history, and the movie does a favor by including them all in vital story arcs that weave and inter-twine in and out of one another. It’s really like watching a stage play before our very eyes, where the audience already knows the dirty secrets of each of its characters before they do. Captivating stuff.
The creative vision of Duvall also doesn’t skimp out on the enticing visual presentation for the movie. The shooting locations are beautiful for the establishing shots, giving that distinct Cape Cod feel that vacation homes are known for. The editing is proper, often times letting a scene play out to give opportunity to the audience to inhale that cloud of awkward tension that plagues the tone of each scene. Sometimes this effect in a movie serves minimal purpose, but here it feels claustrophobic in that we as an audience don’t quite have the same blessing of leaving a room like the cast does. We have to sit there and indulge in everything when it’s at its purest form, and that’s something that makes it even easier to invest yourself in for the very destruction of these likeable people who are bringing to light the dirt of the past. I also greatly enjoyed the cinematography and soft, subtle lighting for the movie. Comedy films in general aren’t usually known for their artistic merits, but Duvall paints us a beautiful paradise just minutes before all hell breaks loose. The use of outdoor lawn lighting is an appreciated touch for me, but the interior choice of yellow bulbs as opposed to white gives each frame that 70’s grainy feeling, that enriches the independent film experience.
Let me just say, I loved this cast. One of the aspects that drew me to the movie early on, was this group of familiar faces who have more than donned their craft in television shows, coming together for this portrait of modern romance. The trailer threw me off with the comedic overtones, but surprisingly everyone here conjures up a lot of emotional depth to bring to the forefront. Melanie Lynskey still has her quirk, but it’s in the fragile temperament of her best friends falling apart that leads her enjoyable tip-toeing to shine. Lynskey and Jason Ritter don’t have the best of chemistry, but what they lack in energy, they more than make up for in stability for the ever-changing atmosphere of these characters. Cobie Smulders once again outshines all by building a quiet rage that reaches a satisfying climax of epic emotions. Her blow-off here feels like the culmination of years of dissatisfaction, and that aspect of her delivery really gave me concerns for the well-being of this couple. Director Duvall and Natasha Lyonne are also an enjoyable duo because they compliment their differences. They are the one couple who feels honest by today’s standards, and Duvall sharpens the stick of selflessness by letting the others shine first.
As for problems, the movie has very little. The ending feels a little too safe, despite the raging tensions with about a half hour left in the movie. I always feel like a movie can teach more when it decides to take some chances with a script that is pretty conventional. The problem here is a lot of the movie’s conflict resolution feels implausible with the set up. These conflicts feel a bit uneven from start to finish, and nobody ever really feels like they have changed as a person. I also could’ve used a little more focus on the story arc of Annie’s alcoholism. The movie kind of hints at this direction for the entire run time of 88 minutes, but does very little with it in the end, instead treating it like a nagging instead of a disease.
“The Intervention” charms its way through a getaway of emotional release. Despite an average ending, the movie satisfied me for the entirety of the film, and overall production design exemplified the ideals of leaving a world behind. DuVall’s grasp on atmosphere is just another one of the many strengths she exhibits as a filmmaker with this genuine, often modernist presentation. Like Grilled Cheese is comfort food, “The Intervention” is comfort couch-binge.
7/10