Blandness eclipses ‘The Sun Never Sets’

    The most intriguing aspect of Joe Swanberg’s revisionist rom-com, “The Sun Never Sets,” is its hypothesizing what would happen if a single gal were asked to choose between a couple of narcissistic losers. Would she be better off alone, or do the rules of the genre dictate that she must pick the lesser of two evils?

    The answer may surprise you, which in itself is a plus for a movie that otherwise tries to have its cake and eat it too. Meaning that Swanberg often resorts to the very clichés he’s attempting to satirize in recounting the romantic misadventures of Wendy, a 31-year-old heavy equipment operator portrayed by Dakota Fanning. Can you get any more unfeminine career-wise? No, and that’s sort of the point in mocking an unwritten edict that demands rom-com ladies be employed in an occupation in which they neither get dirty nor perspire.

    That part, I thoroughly loved about this Anchorage-set love triangle. But why not go further in upsetting Hollywood dictates, like not basing your script on so many contrivances. Especially when you’re a writer-director like Swanbery, who prides himself on taking a naturalistic approach to filmmaking.

     Yet, coincidences abound, beginning with the most absurd of the bunch: Out of the blue, Wendy’s beau of two years, Jack (a miscast Jake Johnson), suggests they take a six-month hiatus. You know, so Wendy can play the field, making sure she’s OK devoting the rest of her life to a dude who’s already done the marriage and kids thing and has no inclinations toward a repeat. Perhaps, he proffers, there’s a guy out there in the Alaskan wilderness who does want those things. If not, come on back.

     This, of course, is not an unselfish gesture, as Jack would like to believe. It’s merely a means of absolving his own guilt. Besides, like Jack tells a pal, the chances of Wendy finding someone who isn’t among “a goofy bunch of guys who smell like salmon” are slim and none. Easy peasy! But remember, this is a movie constructed almost entirely of coincidences. And who should Wendy run into just a few days later? Why, it’s her old flame, Chuck (Cory Michael Smith), looking studly and claiming he’s no longer the unspecified jerk he used to be.

     In no time, they’re doing the horizontal boogie. And guess what? Chuck not only wants to marry her, but he also wants kids. He also has a steady job flying tourists along the Alaskan coastline! He’s literally too good to be true. And what do you know, Jack, the proverbial dog in the manger, is rabidly jealous. Now, he’s willing to do “anything” to call off the sabbatical and head down the altar. Wendy, alas, isn’t buying what he’s selling. Not yet, anyway. But when she learns Jack is seeing someone, too, she’s equally furious.

    Let the madcap shenanigans begin. And it could have been fun, but I was surprised by how quickly their bickering grew tedious. Ditto for their respective moral outrages. Isn’t this what they agreed to? To us, it’s clear from the get-go that Wendy should dump them both, and they her. After all, she’s as selfish and hypocritical as they are in matters of the heart. So, is it a surprise that we end up disliking all three?

    There’s no doubt that Swanberg is taking Wendy’s side. But he writes her character the way a man thinks a woman thinks, meaning misogynistically. True, much of Fanning’s lines and actions are ad-libbed, as is Swanberg’s intent. But what he thinks are gestures of female autonomy project more as male fantasy, culminating in the most sexist of statements: that a woman must choose someone, anyone, or there’s no happy ending.

     That, my friends, is primo male philosophy. It’s also blatantly false, and in many respects, offensive. Still, Fanning is routinely engaging. And that makes all the difference. She actually sells all this nonsense to the point that you support Wendy, despite her abhorrent behavior.  The underutilized Alaskan backdrops are equally alluring. But did we need more than two dozen mediocre indie pop songs as a crutch to help smooth over the jarring shifts in tone? As well as the rampant illogical thinking by the three leads?

     It’s a mess, but, again, Fanning is irresistible. It’s also somewhat kismet that she’s co-starring with Smith, who shared the screen last year with Fanning’s sister, Elle, in the Oscar-winning “Sentimental Value.” Here, he continues to impress and improve on his charismatic breakout in Jason Reitman’s underappreciated “Saturday Night,” where he played such a great Chevy Chase that Chevy Chase himself extended kudos.

    As for Johnson, he’s utterly wrong for the part, dad bod and all. I know he’s long been a favorite of Swanberg, but he’s just not charismatic enough for us to believe Wendy would be so ga-ga. At least he’s not as aloof as Smith’s Chuck. As for the crabapple of their eye, Wendy, like her “Peter Pan” namesake, is just a male ideal run amok. So is “The Sun Never Sets.” It wants us to see the light, but, ironically, its well-meaning messages wind up shrouded in darkness.

Movie review

The Sun Never Sets

Rated: R for language and some sexual references

Cast: Dakota Fanning, Jake Johnson and Cory Michael Smith

Director: Joe Swanberg

Writer: Joe Swanberg

Runtime: 102 minutes

Where: In theaters now

Grade: C