Men, Women & Children an intriguing time capsule

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      Starring Jennifer Garner and Adam Sandler. Rating unavailable.

      When the childhood version of Woody Allen’s character in Annie Hall realizes the universe will eventually implode, he stops doing his homework. “What’s it your business?” his mother angrily responds. Jason Reitman’s Men, Women & Children is here to answer that question, to less than reassuring effect.

      Adapting with Erin Cressida Wilson (Secretary) from Chad Kultgen’s novel, Reitman returns to Juno territory, with dashes of Crash and American Beauty’s rose petals thrown in. His affection for youngsters on the cusp of adulthood is still evident, but the film has some disdain for most of the characters (especially the womenfolk) and their detachment from each other and overconnection to the virtual world.

      Literal distance is established by shots of the Voyager hurtling through space, accompanied by Louis Armstrong’s trumpet on “Melancholy Blues”, from the Humanity’s Greatest Hits package curated by Carl Sagan and Alan Lomax for the craft, launched in 1977. This was long before our pale-blue dot became digitized and Austin, Texas, teens could be spotted drifting through malls with texting balloons floating just over their heads.

      That image may soon appear as dated as interest in space travel or in reading, you know, actual books. But for now, it’s the central metaphor for kids like the football star (The Fault in Our Stars’ Ansel Elgort) who recently quit the team—because Carl Sagan—and is now immersed in online gaming, to the dismay of his football-loving dad (Breaking Bad’s Dean Norris), whose wife recently walked. The lad’s most human contact is with a sensitive girl (Short Term 12’s Kaitlyn Dever) whose mother (Jennifer Garner) keeps a fanatical eye on her daughter’s digital travels.

      Elsewhere, a single mom (Judy Greer) too eagerly enables the online presence of her cheerleading offspring (Olivia Crocicchia), who’s sort of hooking up with another varsity dude (Travis Tope). But he’s so calloused by extreme Internet porn, he can’t get it up for an actual person. (Why a 15-year-old should do that is never addressed.) Meanwhile, the boy’s parents—played by Rosemary DeWitt and Adam Sandler, in a rare straight role—are stretching out their own kinks on the WWW.

      There’s a lot going on here, with bouts of anorexia, homophobia, and general dysphoria marking this almost entirely white and moneyed world. Not even narrator Emma Thompson (hired so we could hear her Oxbridge enunciation of “Titty-Fucking Cum Queens”) can keep it all straight. With a burbling soundtrack evoking ringtones and dial-up signals (remember those?), the film makes an intriguing time capsule, even if it does get a little lost in space.

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