The Descendants

First off, Hawaii isn't a paradise, okay? George Clooney says so. Or at least his character does. Or co-writer and director Alexander Payne says it. Or another writer does. Or, um, whatever. Who cares. But Clooney's beleaguered character Matt King does indeed fill us in on the non-paradise that is Hawaii in The Descendants' opening voice-over narration, itself a silly, unnecessary, awkward, and altogether inept way to begin the movie. Matt is in a rough place since his wife is in a coma following a boating accident and he's struggling with the pressures of possibly raising his adolescent daughters alone. Matt's frustration is understandable, but the decision to introduce the character through a lazy voice-over is not. Instead of meeting Matt at ground level, where his sense of tragedy resides, we're forced into a one-sided conversation plagued by snarky, empty writing.

Matt's rant about Hawaii being just a pretty place with a lot of messed up people comes across as whiny and pointless, because, uh, it's kind of obvious. Of course people have problems no matter how gorgeous their surroundings. Why waste your time introducing yourself with such pithy nonsense? It's like shooting yourself in the foot before starting your sales pitch. It's certainly counter-productive to say the least. And so, ten minutes in, I've learned a whole lot of things about Matt because he told me a whole lot of things, but I still don't feel like I know Matt at all. Even worse, I don't feel like I want to know Matt. But know Matt I will, in addition to many other characters connected to our troubled protagonist.

Enter Matt's younger daughter Scottie (Amara Miller), an impressionable young girl struggling to find her identity, and Matt's older daughter Alexandra (Shailene Woodley), an angsty teen ready to take on the world (or at least her dad). Through their interactions with Matt, we begin to see how clueless a parent he is, and as the news of his wife's coma takes a dark turn, it's clear that Matt is in for a very rough ride. Then the ride gets even rougher when Matt learns that his wife was actually having an affair before the accident. Even considering how rocky their marriage was recently (I listened to the opening voice-over, so I know this), Matt is still in a state of shock. Again, understandably. How much bad news can one guy take? Well, at least he lives in paradise. Oops.

It's a nasty turn of events, but the latest revelation does give Matt something to do for the rest of the movie. He'll bond with his daughters, while planning to confront the guy his wife was cheating with and then possibly become a better man in the process. If it sounds like the narrative is headed towards a "forgive and forget" kind of message, that's because it is. Unlike in some of his past efforts where subtlety and originality actually play a part, Payne doesn't want any ambiguity or unpredictability in the proceedings. He and credited co-writers Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, all adapting the novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings, cut a clear path to the obvious and no one, least of all Matt, is willing to surprise.

Complicating manners is a big, beautiful piece of land that Matt and his cousins have had passed down to them through multiple generations. Located on the lush island of Kauai, the large plot is about to be sold off to a developer who will pay big bucks for the space. A meeting between Matt and his cousins that will likely result in Matt's signing of the necessary papers to sell the land looms ahead, but that's a subplot that is temporarily pushed aside because its only purpose is to further signal the potential for change that Matt must face in the third act. Matt will just have to deal with it then.

With so much turmoil, there are many reasons for Matt and his daughters to get emotional. But that brings me to the movie's biggest problem. As much fun as it may be to poke fun at its shortcomings, The Descendants is ultimately undone by a flaw so pedestrian that it's more pitiful than laughable. It's fake, as in achingly artificial. There's not a moment in the movie that feels emotionally authentic or dramatically believable. It's a pastiche of sentimental clichés searching for something insightful to say. And the self-conscious, unnatural dialogue ensures that the search is in vain.

The only way to salvage such a sappy script is through great acting, but the cast ranges from watchable (Clooney) to awful (Nick Krause, playing his stereotypical stoner role as pathetically at it is written). In between are Miller and Woodley, who both fall victim to the bad writing. Miller barely makes an effort with her performance, while Woodley plays her poorly penned character with such theatrical emotion that she never approaches any kind of onscreen realism. Robert Forster has a few scenes, too, and he appears uncomfortable with the stilted dialogue. He's as bad as most of the others. Judy Greer makes a brief appearance and manages to be okay, while Matthew Lillard plainly plays Matt's wife's lover, which is a pretty darkly funny bit of casting (probably not through Matt's eyes, though) because Lillard is essentially the acting equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.

Lazy writing and sloppy acting aren't exactly encouraging ingredients in a movie about so much pain and loss. But according to The Descendants, Payne's idea of illustrating onscreen emotion is shooting a bunch of simple close-ups of actors pretending to cry. So it's not like this movie was ever going to be very close to making an honest dramatic connection. It stumbles just about every step of the way, using flat and uninvolving scenes to link together rather horribly clumsy ones. The script and cast are at odds throughout, but really, they deserve each other. Neither can figure out how to register actual emotion, instead combining to further expose the melodramatic insincerity. Not even the stunning backdrop of Hawaii can give this movie a boost, which is probably fitting, because as I now know, Hawaii is not a paradise. Yeah, Matt King taught me that. I was listening, but I still don't care.