Cyrus is the kind of independent movie that makes me love independent movies, so it might seem paradoxical that I don’t want to write this review. I just want to tell you to go directly to your nearest theater and see it, without knowing anything about it beforehand. But I do have to write something, so as much as possible, I will eschew plot summary, and only endeavor to persuade you to go see it, right away.
Cyrus is made by the Brothers Duplass (Mark and Jay), who have climbed into Hollywood by way of the Mumblecore trapdoor. The Duplasses made their name with their first two features, Puffy Chair and Baghead, but they’ve matured with incredible speed, and Cyrus is a big step up.
A love triangle such as you’ve never seen before, Cyrus is the story of John, a shambling mess of a man (John C. Reilly) who describes himself as “like Shrek,” Molly, the lovely woman who accepts him as he is (Marissa Tomei), and Cyrus, the twenty-one-year-old son (Jonah Hill) who still lives with her.
Those are capsule character descriptions, and as such, they are wholly inaccurate. For this movie is all about character, and the ways character can manifest and change, all in an instant. You would think this movie was a thriller, the way it places you on alert. The tone is so wobbly (which is not to say inconsistent, or uncontrolled) that from moment to moment, scene to scene, I literally had no idea what was going to happen next. It made me realize how formulaic almost all scripts are. They follow the three-act or five-act rules and the audience obediently holds on for the predictable ride.
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