LANDLINE: A Warm & Witty Look At The Disappointment Of Adulthood

The first collaboration between writer-director Gillian Robespierre and actress Jenny Slate, Obvious Child, does what should be impossible: it tells the story of a woman getting an abortion after a one-night stand and makes it hilarious and heartwarming. As Donna Stern, a recently laid-off bookstore employee and risque stand-up comedian, Slate is the rare romantic comedy heroine to which socially awkward and anxiety-filled girls can relate.

She makes bad choices but somehow remains likable, mostly because they’re the kinds of bad choices that, even if you haven’t made them yourself, you surely have a close girlfriend who has. She manages to laugh at herself even when on the verge of tears. She spouts sexually explicit jokes and profanity without being automatically labeled as “one of the boys.” In short, Slate is the American sweetheart the millennial generation needs and deserves.

So, needless to say, Robespierre and Slate had a lot of expectations to live up to with their second film together, Landline. Set in 1990’s Manhattan, it focuses on one family and their various relationship problems, including the daughters’ growing suspicion that their father is having an affair. And while Landline doesn’t quite reach the hysterical heights of Obvious Child, fans of that first film won’t be disappointed. The heady mix of humor and heartbreak that made Obvious Child so enjoyable is still here, as is that film’s exploration of how the ambush of adulthood forces you to ask yourself questions to which you don’t always want to know the answers.

So I Guess This Is Growing Up

Magazine layout designer Dana Jacobs (Slate) is engaged to be married to longtime boyfriend Ben (Jay Duplass). Their relationship has settled into a comfortable, albeit predictable, rhythm; their rare attempts to re-inject a bit of spark (like having sex outside while visiting the Jacobs family’s country home) generally backfire (like Dana getting horrible poison ivy from said outdoor shenanigans).

Despite her love for Ben, Dana grows increasingly anxious as that seemingly definite marker of true adulthood – getting married – looms in her near future. So, when she runs into a charming and seductive old friend (Finn Wittrock) at an otherwise boring party, she embarks on a wild affair against her better judgment.

Dana isn’t the only woman in the Jacobs family dealing with the disappointment adulthood can bring when it doesn’t turn out quite the way you expected. Her rebellious younger sister, Ali (a breakout performance from young Slate doppelganger Abby Quinn), feels stifled under her parents’ roof, sneaking out most of her nights to go clubbing with her friends or have sex with her somewhat-boyfriend, Jed (Marquis Rodriquez). However, Ali’s life takes a turn when she discovers a floppy disk full of love poems that her copywriter-slash-wannabe playwright father, Alan (John Turturro) wrote for a woman that is most definitely not Dana and Ali’s mother, Pat (a wonderfully bittersweet Edie Falco).

Ali confides in Dana regarding her discovery, and the two of them set out to figure out whether their father’s affair has moved beyond the emotional into the physical – not to mention who exactly the mystery woman is. What follows is a lot of sharp Seinfeldian wit mixed with equal parts intense introspection. One laughs a lot throughout Landline, but not without also cringing in discomfort and distress on behalf of the Jacobs clan.

Three Leading Ladies

Landline is centered around the remarkable performances of its trio of leading ladies, all of whom look and feel like real, relatable women and never verge into caricature. Robespierre and Slate prove with this second collaboration that they are a match made in movie-making heaven, two women who understand that female characters can do unlikable things while still earning our empathy.

As Dana, Slate once again walks the delicate tightrope of quirky without falling into a chasm of twee; the script by Robespierre and producer Elisabeth Holm feels tailored for her uniquely her manic (but thankfully not pixie dream girl) diction. In some ways, she’s like a female Woody Allen, but in many others, she’s just the one and only Jenny Slate.

As for the rest of the Jacobs women: relative newcomer Quinn takes a precocious crank like Ali, who on the surface looks like an angry teenage archetype, and keeps her three-dimensional even when she’s slamming doors and screaming about how much she hates her parents. And, in one particularly poignant disco dance scene, the always-excellent Falco manages to subtly convey all of Pat’s disappointment with how her life has turned out without wallowing in self-pity. With these three complicated women, Landline has more interesting female characters than several summer blockbusters combined.

One almost feels bad for Turturro, who definitely gets the short end of the stick playing the family’s petulant patriarch, starved for attention and an artistic breakthrough that seems unlikely to ever happen. One has some sympathy for him, but when compared to the three women, his character feels much less fleshed out – someone who exists solely to spark their various awakenings, without really having one of his own. Yet in so many other movies women are the ones who get relegated to these roles, so in its own strange way, this weakness in the Landline script almost feels like a feminist statement.

Landline: Conclusion

The other, uncredited star of Landline? The 1995 New York setting, which lends itself to some awesomely grunge-chic ensembles and ensures that the characters have to dig into each other’s secrets without the aid of cell phones and social media.

After one peels away the layers of nostalgia, Landline is a reminder that while things may have seemed simpler on the surface, in reality life and relationships were just as complicated then as they are now.

What do you think? Do you want to see more from Robespierre and Slate? Are there other female director-actor duos working today that can rival their chemistry? Share your thoughts in the comments.

Landline was released in theaters in the United States on July 21, 2017. For additional release dates, please see here.