Dark Horse

By now, the man-child is an extremely familiar cinematic trope.  You know the drill: sweet but immature guy has to learn to grow up, usually for the sake of a woman who's much more attractive than him.  Typically the man-child is a fundamentally good person.  He may be lazy or afraid to take responsibility, but we don't usually see the dark side of adolescence in these cuddly heroes.

Actually, that's not quite right.  We have seen the downside of immaturity from a comedic perspective: witness the antics of Danny McBride or Will Ferrell.  But these comic actors tend to focus on the boorishness of the adolescent male.

Todd Solondz's "Dark Horse," in contrast, looks at the characteristics of the man-child that aren't so box office friendly: blame shifting, jealousy, and self-absorbed negativity.

Abe fits the usual man-child profile: in his 30s, lives with his parents.  Unsurprisingly, he needs to mature to win over a woman far too good for him.  But where Solondz goes from there is not so typical.  Abe ruminates over his fear of dying alone, a failure.  His insecurities lead him to lash out at his put-upon father and accomplished brother.  He collects toys, a fact which Solondz uses to spin a metaphor much more powerful than that of Judd Apatow's 40-year-old virgin who won't take his toys out of the box.  (Abe also drives a Hummer, which Solondz cleverly uses to point out that these monstrosities are basically giant toys.)

Without giving anything away, I can safely say the film goes to unexpected places.  Much of the movie takes place in Abe's head, as he converses with other characters fantastically in the style of a Woody Allen film.  And the film's ending would surely not please Apatow, who once said he loved Allen's movies but wished he would lighten up.

Solondz gets great work from his cast.  Jordan Gelber has rightfully gotten credit for his work as Abe, but Selma Blair is just as good, joining the long line of beautifully sad Solondz heroines.  Christopher Walken gets a rare serious role as Abe's father, and ably exploits it: he conveys more with a blank look than he does in most films where he's bursting with batshit energy.  Mia Farrow is also excellent as the hopelessly doting mother.

Recently Solondz's work has seemed a bit tired.  His previous film, "Life During Wartime," was a sequel to his masterpiece "Happiness" that functioned more as a weak echo.  Hopefully, Solondz has reinvigorated himself by examining a new stock character of Hollywood.