Lola Versus


Lola Versus

Greta Gerwig smirks at Brooklyn from the safety of Manhattan.

(2012) Dramedy (Fox Searchlight) Greta Gerwig, Joel Kinnaman, Zoe Lister-Jones, Hamish Linklater, Bill Pullman, Debra Winger, Ebon Moss-Bachrach, Jay Pharoah, Maria Dizzia, Cheyenne Jackson, Parisa Fitz-Henley, Jonathan Sale, Adriane Lennox. Directed by Daryl Wein

 

The rite of passage as we turn 30 isn’t a ceremonial one nor is it even one we even are aware we’re doing. When we’re in our 20s we can be wild, but as we enter our 30s the responsibilities of job, family and relationship put dampers on our tendencies to party like, well, 20-somethings.

Lola (Gerwig) is 29 years old and life is a bowl of cherries. She’s working on her doctoral dissertation and planning a wedding to her artist boyfriend Luke (Kinnaman) who is handsome and sexy and adores her. Her BFF Alice (Lister-Jones) kvetches constantly about her own inability to attract a guy. She and her ex Henry (Linklater) are Lola’s support system.

Lola is going to need it too when just a few weeks before the wedding, Luke bails on the marriage – and on the relationship. Lola is devastated, comforted by her parents (Pullman, Winger) who are a couple of ex-hippies with a possibly kooky New Age outlook but warm hearts beneath the jargon.

Lola is urged to stop moping and obsessing on Luke and starts to go out with other men. She develops a deep friendship with Henry which both seem to want to take further but neither seem to be able to find a way to make it work. Lola winds up having sex with Luke, then with a creepy prison architect (Moss-Bachrach) with a large….um…well, you can guess.

Lola is a sweet girl but as she approaches birthday number thirty, she is making some fairly egregious mistakes – some out of awkwardness but some in an effort to hurt. She alienates some of her friends, particularly when she begins to realize that of all of them she’s the only one who is truly alone.

For those who love indie hipster romantic comedies with a serious undertone, this is right up your alley. Gerwig has become an indie film darling (much like Parker Posey and Zooey Deschanel have been). She tends to play slightly neurotic but ultimately good-hearted sorts who have difficulties with relationships. The neurotic part utilizes her comedic skills, which are considerable; the good-hearted part engenders audience identification. While most of her parts seem to have been limited to girlfriend types, Gerwig is a talent with a future.

Sadly, she isn’t given much to work with here. It seems like it was written in an Indie Film 101 course with all the clichés that one finds in the average independent film. Artistic types living in Manhattan lofts they couldn’t possibly afford, check. An apparently unlimited income that comes in from no discernible job, check. Quirky friends, check. Montages set to indie music, check. Spiffy dialogue that nobody really talks like, check. A haughty New York-centricity that looks down on all other locations as vastly inferior, check. It all has a kind of been there done that feel.

This is a movie that is too hip for its own good. It’s not that I have anything against being hip, I just feel that it’s a bit overexposed. I’d rather see a few movies that have nothing to do with artists living in lofts, are located anywhere but New York and have characters and dialogue that aren’t clever. I like Gerwig (and Lister-Jones has some good moments as well) but by and large, this just left me flat.

REASONS TO GO: Frank about female sexuality. Gerwig is extremely likable.

REASONS TO STAY: A little too indie hipster for its own good. Might make those who find sex objectionable uncomfortable.

FAMILY VALUES: There is a great deal of sexuality, plenty of cursing, some drinking and drug use as well.

TRIVIAL PURSUIT: Lister-Jones co-wrote the screenplay with Wein.

CRITICAL MASS: As of 6/27/12: Rotten Tomatoes: 37% positive reviews. Metacritic: 49/100. The reviews are more or less mixed.

COMPARISON SHOPPING: Tiny Furniture

MACROBIOTIC FOOD LOVERS: Lola’s parents own a vegan restaurant and throughout Lola mostly eats and snacks on macrobiotic and raw food.

FINAL RATING: 4/10

NEXT: The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

Fin


            The chum floated on the surface of the water, lovely red in a sea of grey-green. The salty smell of the fish blood and chunks of flesh excited the senses of the predator swimming in the cool green depths. His senses so acute, he could taste the blood in the water from nearly a mile away. With powerful thrusts of his tail and flukes, he moved through the water like a rocket, intent on his prey.

            Tara tied her bikini top and adjusted it. Her pink nipples and aureole peered out. It wouldn’t do to have those in public view, although she’d been known to allow an occasional nip slip from time to time to keep the boys firmly in the palm of her hand. Tara was a bit of a closet exhibitionist in some ways.

            She was also a total beach babe. Her blonde hair and blue eyes gave her an almost Nordic cast, but the tan of her skin was pure California. Even though it was overcast and grey out, she wanted to take a nice swim. It was part of her regimen; keeping fit was important and a daily three mile swim in the nearby waters were part of keeping her fit and trim. She enjoyed the attention of boys more than most.

            She smiled to herself as she looked around her apartment at the wreckage from last night. She’d picked him up in a local bar, an English lad who said football when he meant soccer and that was his passion. She’d taken him home and found him pleasantly aggressive in the bed – not that they’d limited their passions to the bedroom. No, he’d had her on the couch, on the living room floor, in the bathroom as well as in the bed. Truth be told, she was sore down there today – a pleasant, lovely throbbing ache that reminded her of the pleasures of last night.

            He had left shortly before dawn, giving her one last fuck before heading back to his house. He promised to call her later and she kind of hoped he would; she hadn’t had sex that good for awhile and Tara liked sex even when it wasn’t good. As she brushed her hair and tied it in a ponytail behind her, she saw in the reflection of her mirror the bed, stained and rumpled from last night’s activities. She felt a pleasant shiver in between her legs as she remembered the feelings of her lad inside her. She couldn’t stop smiling.

            She pulled out a pair of cutoff jeans and a t-shirt, then sat on the bed and fished out her flip flops. She could still smell him on the pillows. Her grin widened. Life was damn good when you’re hot, blonde and strong.

            She grabbed a clean beach towel and stuffed it in her beach bag, along with her sun screen, a tube of Chapstick, a bottle of water and the book she was reading, something by John Grisham. She grabbed her keys and a couple of granola bars in case she wanted to snack while she was sunning and threw them in the bag; as she walked out she remembered one last thing and grabbed it, throwing it in the bag before heading out the door.

            In her little Jetta convertible, she grabbed her sunglasses from the glove compartment and put them on even though it was cloudy. Starting her car, she grabbed a CD of pop tunes and stuck it in the player before roaring out of the apartment parking lot. She drove with the top down and the CD player blaring high energy rock tunes with which she sang loudly. It was early on a Sunday morning and there were few people about which suited Tara just fine. She liked to get her swim in before the beach got too crowded; when there were guys about, she wanted to be tanning, not out in the water concentrating on her swim.

            The beach was only a ten minute drive from her apartment and the parking lot was empty as she pulled in to her usual spot. She was still humming the tune she’d been singing as she shut the engine off and grabbed her things. Locking the car door behind her, she walked towards her favorite spot on the beach, near the lifeguard station, close to the water but not so close that she didn’t get the benefit of traffic. Even though it was overcast and a bit chilly for this time of year, it was supposed to warm up later on in the morning. Perfect.

            She set down her bag and pulled out her towel, laying it down on the sand and using her sandals to anchor it down. She felt the sea breeze hitting her legs and as it always did, it felt glorious. She quickly stripped off her t-shirt and cutoffs and dropped them in her beach bag. Her drying towel was in there; she made a mental note that she needed to do laundry today when she got home, as she was running low on towels but then going to the beach nearly every day will do that to you.

            She took off the sunglasses and tossed them in the beach bag. She spent a few moments stretching, limbering up for her morning swim. She was an impressive sight in her blue bikini, her body fit and tan. She would have turned a few heads were there any around to turn. Even the lifeguards hadn’t gotten in yet which was fine; the one that had been here lately was a douchebag. He just stared at her with eyes that were predatory; she was sure he would rape her if he got her in a dark alley. Not that she was above having sex with a lifeguard – she’d had a steamy little affair with Justin, the guy who had worked here most of the summer but Eric, the new guy, he wasn’t nearly as cute as Justin so it would have to be rape if he wanted to get into her panties.

            She giggled at herself. What a strange thought. Maybe she was off the market anyway. Jamie, her English lad, had a lot of possibilities. Maybe he would be the one who finally made an honest woman of her. If the sex continued to be like it was last night, he might be the only man on Earth able to satisfy her. She chuckled to herself. When did I become such a slut? she thought to herself, smiling. She was one of those women who enjoyed sex and didn’t care if people thought she was a slut for it. If we weren’t supposed to have sex, she told her girlfriends at the bar just last night, why did it feel so goddamn good?

            She finished stretching and trotted towards the water. The water was cold in the morning but she didn’t mind; it was invigorating not to mention refreshing. Her nipples immediately hardened, a pleasant sensation. She splashed out into the water until she was thigh deep and then started her swim.

            She liked the solitude of her morning swim. It gave her a chance to clear her head and just enjoy the physical sensations of her exertions. She could easily go to the gym (and when the weather was bad, that’s what she did) but she disliked the crowds and guys hitting on her when she was trying to work out. Here, nobody bothered her – this particular beach was almost always deserted until about 10am, two hours from now. Her swim usually took her about an hour as she would go out to the buoy and back, then repeat. Justin had told her that the buoy was about three quarters of a mile out, so two laps would take her three miles which was plenty of workout for her.

            She swam with slow, easy strokes, not in any particular hurry. Tara wasn’t about speed; she just wanted to enjoy her swim. She had powerful legs; years of dancing and rollerblading had given her that. She kicked strongly and as she looked back she saw the beach moving further and further away in her view. The current was a little strong but nothing she couldn’t handle.

            The predator had a sense of things and he knew that the other thing floating in the water by the chum was danger. He saw the other predators in the area feeding on the blood and sensed them suddenly thrash in pain and fear as they were attacked from above. He moved well away from the trap until he sensed something else; something in the water splashing not far away. Instantly he turned and swam away.

            She saw the buoy and realized she was a little off course. She righted herself and swam towards it, grabbing hold of it for a moment, catching her breath before shoving off of it and heading back to the beach. She continued to cut through the water, feeling the cool waters envelop her. She felt a little like the mermaid she longed to be as a little girl. She smiled inwardly; she wondered what Ariel would have thought of her activities last night. She giggled to herself as she soon reached the shore. Again she paused, catching her breath yet again before setting off on her final lap towards the buoy.

            Before she was even halfway there she realized it was a mistake. The current had grown much stronger now, and it was difficult going. She was kicking harder, paddling to near-exhaustion just to stay more or less in the same place. She realized that she was being pulled out to sea. She reached out for the buoy but the current had already pulled her past it. She screamed for help, hopelessly; she knew even as she did there was nobody to hear her.

            She hadn’t been in a rip current before but she knew the worst thing she could do was panic. She took a deep breath. She tried to organize her thoughts. What to do…if she continued to fight the current she’d be exhausted in a matter of minutes, then she’d be in real trouble. Tara had no illusions that help would come for her. She knew she had to get out of this situation herself.

            Then she remembered. Swim parallel to the shore until she escaped the current. She began to do that. Elsinore Beach was just a bit up the coast and there were surfers there…lifeguards. She began paddling in that direction. She was making some progress but she was already tired and she found she was splashing much more than usual. She had to keep her focus!

            The predator was much closer now and realized that the splashing thing was not a seal or a fish. It was something else entirely. If it had been able to smile, it would have; it recognized the scent of panic and the scent of blood. It was like a marine missile, aimed straight at the splashing entity. It recognized the smell of it in the water. It had eaten meat like this before.

            Tara’s muscles hurt and she felt like there were weights tied to her wrists and ankles. She felt tears leaking from her eyes but she gave herself a mental kick in the ass. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she thought, Just keep your head and you’ll get out of this. Doggedly, she started swimming harder, knowing that sooner or later she’d get past this rip current and be able to swim safely ashore.

            She was a good mile and a half offshore when she felt the resistance of the current lessen. Relief flooded through Tara as she began to aim back towards the shore. Hope renewed her strength and she began swimming harder. It would all be over soon.

            She felt something bump up against her and wondered if some inquisitive fish had checked her out. She smiled at that. Must have been a boy fish. She could see the shore getting closer and closer and she thought she could make out some human figures on it.

            The pain shot through her like nothing she’d ever experienced. She screamed at the top of her lungs, agony coursing through her. The water turned red around her. “What…what’s….what’s happening?” she stammered. She looked around wildly for some clue as to what happened but she couldn’t see a thing. She began swimming again for shore but for some reason she couldn’t move her legs.

            It erupted out of the water, the predator and grabbed Tara by her abdomen. Her wails of fear and pain were the last sounds she’d ever make as she was dragged under the water by the shark that the authorities up and down the coast were chasing after having attacked four other swimmers in the past month. She struggled to escape the jaws of the predator but it was too strong and Tara too weak from both the swim and the loss of blood to put up much of a fight. The blood clouded the water as darkness took her.

********************************************************************************************************************

             Eric walked towards the lifeguard station carrying a cooler with his lunch and a couple of beers. Might as well enjoy himself if he had to hang out all day in this shithole of a beach. He noticed a towel, beach bag and some clothes strewn on the sand near his station. He looked up and down the beach but there was nobody on the sand and nobody in the water. He looked back to the parking lot and saw a small convertible parked there not far from his own Mustang.

            Stupid chick must have gone home and fucked some guy and forgotten her stuff. Well, he’d put it in the station on the off chance she’d return. She’d left her car there after all. Still, wouldn’t hurt to check the bag to see if there was some cash in there. He can always say someone else must have stolen it.

            Sunscreen. A book. Keys. Granola bars. A plastic water bottle. Another towel. And a tampon. Ewwwww! Eric chucked the tampon back into the bag. Stupid slut. No cash. He tossed the bag in a corner of the lifeguard station and forgot about it even before it landed with a thud that sounded to his ears final.

            He put up the rip current flag and made sure the sign was up warning people out of the water, then settled back in his chair and waited for the crowds to come. Lots of babes in bikinis, all of them thrilled out of their minds to talk with a stud lifeguard like him. Life is damned good when you’re young, hot and strong.