Maybe Let’s Not
Who’s the executive that thought this was a timely adaptation, what got them that high, and where can I get some?
Maybe I do
Director: Michael Jacobs • Writer: Michael Jacobs, based on his play
Starring: Diane Keaton, Richard Gere, Susan Sarandon, William H Macy, Emma Roberts, Luke Bracey
USA • 1hr 35mins
Opens Hong Kong April 13 • IIA
Grade: D
All you need to know about Maybe I Do can be summed up by the fact that writer-producer-director Michael Jacobs is also a TV producer, and responsible for peak sitcom treacle like Boy Meets World, My Two Dads and Charles in Charge. Now, I’m not a fan of the sitcom format, but even by sitcom standards, these are some of the most saccharine and formulaic ever put to videotape (two from the ’80s, yo), though admittedly Boy has a devoted fanbase that spawned a sequel in 2014. Jacobs has a proven knack for tapping mass audiences with his inoffensive, middle class wypipo angst, and bless his heart. He’s made a fairly lucrative career of it.
But Maybe I Do, based on his play Cheaters, which premiered in Florida – FLORIDA – in 1977, is a dated, inert, and entirely baffling affair. Woops. I said “affair”, as if Jacobs’s searing insight into infidelity, commitment and regret (or some shit) was actually part of the subtext in this unfunny, retrograde, say-nothing comedy of romantic errors. Who thought this would be a good idea? Did Richard Gere and Susan Sarandon need Greek villas that badly? Is Diane Keaton ever going to emerge from the ’70s? And what the hell is wrong with the sound mix? Does the space around you normally ring with that dead air anti-noise? Watching, and listening, to Maybe I Do is like standing at the crossroads of the Lasseter and the Stuart at dusk (Google map it). There’s a foreboding in the silence… but nothing ever happens.
Insufferable. And static
Maybe I Do’s stage origins shine bright. The film is told in almost tableaux-style vignettes and in overly verbose, philosophical ramblings that no real person ever says, no matter how gracefully appointed the mid-century modern suburban home (this shit’s straight from the Nancy “It’s Complicated” Meyers or Nora “You’ve Got Mail” Ephron playbook) they live in suggest they might. Act I, Scene 1, stage left. Young couple Michelle (Emma Roberts) and Allen (Luke Bracey) are at a wedding, after which Allen’s overly-aggressive sabotage of Michelle’s bouquet catch leads to a “hard discussion” about their relationship. Kill spotlight. Scene 2, stage centre. Monica (Sarandon) is doing her damnedest to seduce Howard (Gere) in a fancy hotel room, but he’s just not feeling it tonight. Kill spotlight. Scene 3, stage right. Annie Hall Grace (Keaton) meets Sam (William H Macy) at a movie theatre, and his emotionalism over some movie piques her interest, sending them on a Before Sunrise-esque walk through Manhattan, really communicating with each other the way they don’t, or can’t, with their spouses. Kill spot.
Blah blah blah, Michelle goes home to mom and dad, Grace and Howard, to whine about her BF. Blah blah blah, Allen goes home to mom and dad, Monica and Sam, to whine about his GF. Though Michelle and Allen are considering marriage, they’re just now getting around to their parents meeting each other. Uh oh… but aren’t they… Hijinks! Let’s hope all these crazy white folks in designer clothing can work it out.
Uncreatively shot in a flat, establishing-shot-reverse shot construction (by Always Be My Maybe DOP Timothy Suhrsted), Maybe I Do is mercifully short, and so the agony of watching some heavyweight talent blather on about how love fades or morphs over time and whether or not it’s worth the stress of not knowing the future ends quickly. And I’ll admit this could be an English problem; the audience reading the subtitles were cracking up, so kudos to the translators for having a way better (and probably more current) sense of humour than Jacobs. Gere, Sarandon and Keaton have never been lazier (seriously, I hope those villas are spectacular), Roberts proves she works best on the less demanding confines of television, and Bracey… walks upright. Macy alone manages a few zingers worthy of his signature resigned delivery but not even he can stave off the eye-rolling. If Maybe I Do is hoping to muscle its way into the annals of the mature rom-com micro-genre à la The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, or Mamma Mia!, or Something’s Gotta Give Jacobs might want to consider attending a Meyers seminar first. Add this to the list of contenders for the worst of ’23. — DEK