The initial glimpse into “This Is Where I Leave You” paints a picture of a quintessential Hollywood family drama, meticulously crafted for broad appeal. From the outset, the narrative framework feels instantly recognizable, a testament to well-worn tropes and character archetypes that populate countless films within the genre. The setup is brisk: Judd Foxman, seemingly enjoying an enviable existence – the perfect job, the perfect partner, the perfect life – experiences a sudden and dramatic upheaval. This idyllic facade shatters with the revelation of infidelity, compounded by the poignant news of his father’s passing, compelling him to return to his family home.
This Is Where I Leave You Movie Cover
The script treatment quickly sketches out Judd’s unraveling perfect life. We see glimpses of his workplace, punctuated by casual sexism, hinting at a superficial professional environment. The introduction of the “perfect girl,” a young starlet, is equally fleeting, designed to establish a glossy, yet ultimately shallow, romantic life. The birthday cake scene serves as the catalyst for Judd’s personal earthquake, a moment of betrayal delivered with sitcom-esque comedic timing, as he discovers his wife in bed with his boss. This sequence efficiently establishes the initial premise: Judd’s life is in disarray, setting the stage for his return home and the ensuing family dynamics.
The narrative then pivots to the catalyst for the central family reunion: the death of Judd’s father. The somber news triggers a montage of familiar tropes – melancholic driving scenes, the subdued arrival at the family home, and the obligatory, slightly awkward, sibling embraces. Even in this moment of grief, the script injects levity, a comedic interlude with baby vomit, underscoring the blend of drama and humor that defines the piece. Judd’s brother’s line, “Welcome home,” carries a weight of both familiarity and underlying tension, hinting at the complex family dynamics that will unfold.
Dialogue snippets further illuminate the pre-packaged nature of the narrative. The incredulity at the father’s wish for the family to observe Shiva, despite his lack of religious observance, immediately introduces familial conflict and contrasting personalities. The mention of the mother as a “sex columnist” adds another layer of quirky familial eccentricity, a trope frequently employed in similar narratives to inject humor and unconventionality. The Goldie Hawn character’s glamor shot and confession about loneliness reinforces this archetype, the unconventional mother figure offering slightly edgy, comedic pronouncements.
The voiceover narration, a constant presence throughout the treatment, overtly signals the thematic direction. Phrases like “seven days to re-connect,” “pick up the pieces,” and “put things back the way he left them” telegraph the predictable arc of reconciliation and rediscovery. The invocation of “Little Miss Sunshine” as a tonal and thematic touchstone further solidifies the film’s aspirations within the “quirky indie drama” subgenre, aiming for a blend of humor and heartwarming sentimentality. The use of upbeat music, like The Killers’ “Mr. Brightside,” during a fast-cut montage, hints at the film’s reliance on familiar emotional cues and soundtrack choices to manipulate audience response.
The casting suggestions – Jason Segal, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Rachel McAdams, David Schwimmer, and Goldie Hawn – further reinforce the film’s calculated appeal. These are recognizable, commercially viable actors, adept at both comedic and dramatic roles, aligning perfectly with the film’s intended tone. The final comedic beat, involving the potty and the unfortunate plate of food, culminates in Judd’s laugh line, “Well, you can’t ask for a more perfect metaphor than that!” This punchline epitomizes the script’s reliance on sitcom-style humor and neatly packaged thematic statements.
“This is Where I Leave You,” rated PG-13, ultimately presents itself as a meticulously engineered product, designed to tap into the audience’s appetite for family dramas with a comedic edge. While the treatment promises a story of reconnection and healing, it does so through readily identifiable tropes and character types. The script’s reliance on formulaic plotting and sitcom-style dialogue, while potentially commercially successful, raises questions about its depth and originality within a crowded genre landscape. The comparison to “Little Miss Sunshine” and “Juno,” films that also navigated the complexities of family with varying degrees of success, positions “This is Where I Leave You” within a specific niche, one that prioritizes audience accessibility and emotional resonance over nuanced character development and narrative innovation.
