The Good Girl

"The Good Girl" does not have a very promising premise. It's an indie movie--cue the spare acoustic guitars--starring Jennifer Aniston. Aniston is a bored suburban retail worker who has an affair with a younger man. Looks like we're going to get a rote version of "American Beauty" crossed with "Madame Bovary."

But "The Good Girl" has some tricks up its sleeve. By its conclusion, it seems more like a cross between a milder version of a Coen brothers movie and a milder version of "Revolutionary Road." Like the former, its seemingly plain characters are actually capable of some dastardly acts. Like the latter, it tests the limits of its protagonist's willingness to escape suburban malaise.

To be clear, "The Good Girl" is not as ambitious or jarring as the above references; these characters are never quite at each other's throats. The filmmaking signals this throughout. Like its score, the camera reflects the film's modest aims, sitting back to encompass the relevant characters and letting them tell the story.

But "The Good Girl" is never boring either. The film is briskly paced, picking up momentum as it runs along. Director Miguel Arteta manages to surprise us frequently by momentarily withholding information in a scene. The screenplay by Mike White offers some light comic touches to keep things moving.

The acting is serviceable, if not spectacular. Aniston gives us a passable Texas accent and manages to do what is needed. (Luckily, the plot is interesting enough that she doesn't have to carry it.) John C. Reilly is her dopey husband. He's frequently cast in roles like this because he looks the part, and he's more than up to the task. Jake Gyllenhaal, Aniston's lover, already had plenty of experience playing a brooding young man from "Donnie Darko."

"The Good Girl" will not change your life. But there are much worse ways to spend 90 minutes.