Smart People for Dummies

The trouble with movies is that they often make real life incredibly disappointing. Though you may find it hard to believe based on my girlish gushing about movies like Enchanted and Definitely, Maybe, the disappointment does not stem from the brutal absence of happily ever afters. No, often as I walk up the dark movie aisle as the credits are rolling, I feel profoundly underwhelmed instead by the lack of witty, funny, and ultimately heartwarming dialog on the set of my own life. Smart People is a perfect example of this phenomenon. The script is basically flawless: touching, intelligent, comic, and it also boasts great SAT words.

The cast has been perfectly hand picked for their roles. Dennis Quaid, Ellen Page, and Thomas Haden Church play their roles perfectly. Though, I think Church’s performance is the best. It’s not easy to make the deadbeat juvenile Uncle an endearing character, but he quickly charms us all—despite the unsightly shots of his rear-end. Ellen Page runs the risk of being type cast as Juno, since Vanessa is basically an unpregnant Juno. Her relationship with Chuck, played by Church, also mirrors that of Juno’s relationship to the adoptive father. I think she can now try a new shtick. Though, we’re more than happy to see her do it a second time in Smart People.

Speaking of type casting, Sarah Jessica Parker should legally change her name to Carrie Bradshaw. I must say, I find Carrie a much better writer than a doctor, as she is in this film. I also found myself thinking that a pompous professor was such a step down from the glamorous city boy, Big. It would’ve helped to dull down her wardrobe. Then again, Dr. Carrie Bradshaw would always be wearing fabulously cute dresses beneath her white Doctor’s coat, as she does in Smart People. Perhaps test audiences reject the sight of a frumpy Carrie Bradshaw—by the way, I just ADORED her sweater dress in the airport scene. Carrie invented casual chic. My initial skepticism of her, however, evaporated as she repeatedly points out to Lawrence, Quaid’s character, that he’s an asshole.

What I truly admired about Smart People is that the characters did not conveniently evolve and mature to provide a cookie cutter resolution. Lawrence is pretty much the same jerk he was at the beginning of the movie at the end, though at least he can admit it. We can only hope that Vanessa, at the ripe age of 17, can reign in her cheekiness in her adult life. Honestly, we love Chuck just the way he is, so we are happy to see he’s not really altering his gig. Like the ratty old Wesleyan sweatshirt he wears, Chuck is unappealing only at first glance. Once everyone tries him on, he becomes the sweatshirt they’ll wear forever.

I left Smart People feeling so profoundly dissatisfied with my own words. Both the writers’ material and the actors’ delivery make the life’s unscripted dialog feel all the more inadequate. Yet, just when I was about to pull out my old SAT books to become more like smart people, I remembered that ultimately, Lawrence uses someone else’s words—I won’t give away who—because, despite all his intellect and vocabulary, one often needs to dumb down a little bit to live happily. Here’s to living life off the book and being a dumb ass, as opposed to a smart ass.