This Is Where I Leave You

As a white person with his fair share of problems, I get a little peeved at the dismissive term ‘white people problems’. Of course, that was before I saw This Is Where I Leave You, which is pretty much the working definition of said term. Directed by the competent but uninspired Shawn Levy of Night At The Museum fame, this ensemble drama wears its Big Chill/Parenthood influences heavily upon its sleeve, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but neither Levy nor screenwriter Jonathan Tropper (adapting his novel) bring anything especially new or insightful to the table.

Of course, there are moments of tenderness and humour in this story of four grown siblings returning to their childhood home after the death of their father. How could there not be when you have fine, distinctive actors wrestling with their various middle-class problems? We’re talking Jason Bateman dealing with an unfaithful wife and a fear of spontaneity, Tina Fey coping with a jerk-off husband and sad memories of true love with brain-damaged boy-next-door Timothy Olyphant, Corey Stoll’s failure to knock up his wife and Adam Driver being an immature but adorable fuck-up. They’re all good, but there’s a generally tepid, luke-warm quality that makes the film less than satisfying.

This Is Where I Leave You, In cinemas 23 Oct