Salt in Wound

4 stars out of 5

A bunch of people seemed surprised that I went to a movie theater. They’re perhaps forgetting that for the overwhelming majority of films I go to see, the attendance has always been well under 25% capacity. Regardless, going to the movies was one of the main things I’ve missed during the pandemic. So during this gentle reopening phase, I thought, when the right movie comes along, I’ll go. Tenet? Eh. Unhinged? Um. Something about the Chicago 7? Maybe, maybe. But BILL MURRAY? In a movie that otherwise will only be on Apple TV+ which I do not subscribe to and will not be paying for because enough of this premium streaming bullshit? Yes, I would gladly mask up and take my chances.

There wasn’t too much different at my local cinema. Only open Thursday to Sunday for now. Plexiglass in front of the cash registers. Concessions limited to popcorn, candy, soda — they’re not stocking anything perishable in case they have to shut down again. You now choose your seat in advance (which has never really caught on before) and, after pressing the seat icon several times to no avail, I was told that, no, it was not a touch screen.

Oh, and there was a movie! And I liked it! I can’t say I’ve followed Sofia Coppola’s career too closely. I remember liking Lost in Translation, though only the cool mood of it has stuck with me. During the pandemic I finally watched The Virgin Suicides and thought it was really good. And A Very Murray Christmas had been an OK-enough diversion. I hadn’t seen any trailers or read any articles about On the Rocks, so, surprise me.

First of all, if you’re a Bill Murray fan, I think you’ll appreciate the movie. Because he gets to be, well, very Murray. Prior to him showing up, I was thinking, uggh, struggling couple story (see title), the joy of parenthood and success at work has reduced the spark of romance for Rashida Jones and Marlon Wayans, we’ve seen it again and again and again; I gave up on Breeders during the first episode. To be frank, it’s not my life and I don’t care so much.

Ah, but then Rashida’s dad shows up and it’s classic Murray poured into an older, upscale, former gallery-owner persona. He’s the life of the party, knows everybody’s name and backstory, and Cat in the Hat style, he’s shown up to shake Rashida from her doldrums though probably cause a little chaos in his wake. He sings (yay), smiles, flirts, drives fast. Bill Murray, ladies and gentlemen!

This is Sofia Coppola’s Woody Allen movie. And not just because it’s a love letter to Manhattan — sorry for using that phrase yet again, but I really dig films where the director skillfully incorporates place as a key character. This story couldn’t have been set in Bergen County. It’s also Woody’s world of educated, well-meaning, well-off liberals. Rashida is a (blocked) writer; we frequently see the Bernie 2016 sticker in their apartment, and she wears Paris Review and Run-DMC t-shirts.

In the spirit of later Woody flicks, there’s a bit of a caper here too, bathed in light comedy. A less talented director than Coppola might’ve gone way too broad with this, but she keeps it subtle. You see, Murray convinces Rashida to follow Marlon Wayans, to see if he’s cheating on her with leggy co-worker Fiona. At the same time, dad is unknowingly giving her an It’s a Wonderful Life glimpse at the road not taken: his commitment-phobic, eternal nightlife tour of New York’s hottest clubs.

Murray is the star attraction here, but Jones and Wayans more than hold their own. I haven’t seen Rashida Jones in a lead role since Celeste and Jesse Forever but she’s once again very good in the role of… you know, I’ve gone this far without looking up the characters’ names and I’m certainly not going to do it now, though I promise that “Fiona” was accurate above. Jones is convincing as the aging plainish-Jane, devoted mom, don’t rock the boat in the relationship, good person. I feel like I know very little about Marlon Wayans, but it turns out (wait, Jack, did you just look on IMDB or didn’t you?? Answer the question, Mr. Vice President!!) that I’ve seen him in many more movies than Sofia Coppola productions I’ve watched. Anyway, he does a solid job as the slightly slick, good but distracted husband and dad who you could perhaps believe is having an affair maybe.

It’s a pleasing, quiet, grown-up film that I truly enjoyed, plus I felt very good about the social distancing in the theater. I’ll be back. Oh, and there’s a peppy Phoenix song over the end credits, so if Coppola was writing from personal experience, at the very least she and hubby are still comfortably working together.