The Invite

I adore plays and films in which four characters are stuck in a single location, talking, sharing, lying, arguing, yelling, and everything else human beings do when getting to know each other. But as relatively easy as these types of productions are to stage, they are the most difficult type of theater or film to pull off successfully because all the actors must be of the same caliber, and each aspect of the production must support the actors rather than distract from their performances. If any one element comes up short, the production falters. In other words, for every sharp-as-nails Mike Nichols film of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? there's a shockingly limp Roman Polanski film of Yasmina Reza's God of Carnage. The Invite falls somewhere between these extremes.

This adaptation of Spanish filmmaker Cesc Gay's play and film Sentimental (or The People Upstairs), directed by Olivia Wilde (Booksmart, Don't Worry Darling), comes very close to achieving the delicate balance required of a production like this, but falters in one major respect. The story centers on an unhappy couple, Joe and Angela, whose marriage is set on autopilot to crash into the ground. At the start of the film. Joe returns home from a hard day at work to discover that Angela has invited their upstairs neighbors, Pína and Hawk, for a dinner party. Joe is furious at the thought of hosting company, especially these two, whose loud sex has kept him up nights and added to his level of frustration with his life. However, the evening proves unusually stimulating, taking several interesting turns that will likely have a permanent effect on Joe and Angela's marriage.

The sharp screenplay by actor/writers Will McCormack and Rashida Jones was originally written with the directing team of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris (Little Miss Sunshine, Ruby Sparks, Battle of the Sexes) at the helm. It then bounced around in development with various stars attached at one time or another before Wilde came aboard. I do wonder what this material would have been like if helmed by a married couple in their late 60s rather than someone in their early 40s with an unfortunately public romantic history. My guess is that it would be just a little bit less pleased with itself. There is a tone to this movie that suggests to the viewer that the cast and filmmakers think they've hit upon something really profound about human relationships here, and that's a tad distracting. For the most part, though, the movie is truthful, funny, and even insightful. Three of the leads give layered, nuanced performances, but then there is that weak link.

I'm not a Seth Rogen hater, but one need not be predisposed to disliking the affably goofy comic actor, writer, and filmmaker to be painfully aware of how out of his league he is in this company. He holds his own in early scenes with Wilde, though his unhappy husband suffering from back pain and midlife frustration is a one-note creation that never develops beyond the guy we meet when he arrives at the door. While Wilde's early scenes instantly start us wondering about the motivations, backstory, and level of self-awareness of the hyperkinetic wife. Once Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton enter the picture, as the enigmatic couple from upstairs, the stakes and the humor increase tenfold. Unfortunately, Rogen doesn't really know how to contribute to this escalation, aside from a few funny line readings.

Rogen's performance collapses soufflé, keeping the film from fully succeeding. Still, there's a lot to enjoy about The Invite. Cruz and Norton have always been phenominal actors, but it's genuniluy thrilling to watch them bring unexpected depth and humor to the roles they've taken on mid-career—think Norton in Glass Onion and A Complete Unknown and Cruz in Parallel Mothers and Ferrari. While Wilde more than holds her own as both director and co-star. This picture should go a long way to winning back fans she might have lost after the bad press and poor reception of Don't Worry Darling.