In recent years, popular cinema has latched onto the concept of the “man child,” a man old enough to have at least a start on a permanent career or a family, but who instead lacks any post-pubescent mental or emotional maturity and does essentially nothing to further themselves (see: “Step Brothers,” “Knocked Up,” “Pineapple Express” or essentially any Seth Rogen movie). These films usually contrast women as the responsible go-getters, with a set plan for the future and a scolding tongue for the man-children in their lives. With “Laggies,” released Oct. 24, director Lynn Shelton (“Your Sister’s Sister,” “Humpday”) has turned this recent trend on its head.
Megan (Keira Knightley, with a near-flawless American accent) is a well-educated 20-something woman who is too old to be young, but considers herself far too young to be stable. She does not by any means have a definite plan for the future. In fact, she is far more concerned with the past — more specifically, with her high school career and senior prom. Her friend group then is still her friend group now, and she’s still with her high school boyfriend, Anthony (Mark Webber), an oblivious photographer with a soft heart who proposes at the start of the film. Megan panics and retreats to an unexpected safe house: the home of a teenage girl, Annika, and the girl’s single father, Craig (Chloë Grace Moretz and Sam Rockwell).
If it seems odd that Megan should find companionship in the home of relative strangers, that’s because it is. But perhaps it’s not so hard to see why she clings to teenage Annika: the girl is just as aimless as Megan is. What Megan doesn’t anticipate is how well she gets along with Craig, considering he’s filling in for the nagging, collected “woman” of a more “traditional” film (in this case, he’s a divorce lawyer whose wife left him and their daughter six years ago).
She begins to re-evaluate her current friendships. Her high school friends, once so in tune with her, seem oblivious to their own ridiculousness. They don’t laugh at Megan’s raunchy jokes, but perform intensely serious interpretive dances at their weddings and name their babies “Juppiter.” Worse, their version of what’s best for Megan shows they don’t really know her at all.
Ellie Kemper shines as the ringleader of Megan’s misguided friend group, but the acting is spot-on with nearly all characters. Moretz is convincingly and age-appropriately juvenile and Knightley, in full crisis mode for 90 percent of the film, pulls off Megan’s procrastination and unfocused anxiety perfectly. Rockwell, playing against type as the “straight man,” comes as a breath of fresh air for both Megan and the audience. He’s funny, witty, charming and (most importantly) gets Megan — even more so than Annika, whom Megan slowly realizes wants more of Megan than she’s possibly willing to give. Rockwell completely steals all of his scenes, even the sentimental ones.
This is where “Laggies” loses its edge. The film had the potential to remain purely the quirky love letter to spontaneity and the female man child, but instead falls into the honey trap of the romantic comedy: the romance itself. It gets sappy.
The short time frame of the film’s events is telling, and every character and event seems to take place in a heightened reality: Megan’s friends and fiancée are just a tad too sincere in their apparent insanity, Craig is just a tad too perfect, Annika a tad too stereotypical. Everyone seems to have prepared a speech for Megan on his or her definitions of love and adulthood, and these speeches don’t flow naturally into the film’s dialogue.
Overall, for all the big questions “Laggies” raises about growing up, it offers few answers, instead wrapping up all the anxiety and lack of direction of a quarter-life crisis in a too-good-to-be-true happy ending.
But in another sense, this is inspiring, too, and the sweetness of the romance and story gives the film an almost suburban fairy tale vibe that’s hard to dislike. The film, like its protagonist, is awkward and lacks definite aim, but “Laggies” is an enjoyable indie treatment of the man-child trope.
