Wilson

Overview

Sporting horn-rimmed glasses and a cranky hankering for complaining, Woody Harrelson is clearly having fun in Craig Johnson's Wilson. Channelling his inner Larry David, he plays the cantankerous title character with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, delivering his misanthropic lines with glee. His grouchy protagonist drips with the same attitude he displayed in The Edge of Seventeen, Now You See Me and the Hunger Games movies – and yet not once does it feel like he's following a playbook. But while you could never accuse Harrelson of going through the motions, the same cannot be said about his latest film

Here, a world-weary middle-aged grump is content with spitting acid at everything around him, until a series of life-changing events threatens to interrupt his sour status quo. Alas, though it is based on Daniel Clowes' graphic novel of the same name — and as such possesses the same spirit as the cartoonist's Ghost World and Art School Confidential — this big screen adaptation could hardly be more formulaic. That the film can't quite fashion its episodic antics into anything more than obvious observations — about the state of modern society, family and the notion of making a mark — certainly doesn't help. Nor does the unconvincing seesawing between comedy and something more serious.

When we first meet Wilson, he's a lanky, bearded package of conflicting impulses and disdain. When he's not admonishing people on the street for taking a shine to his cute pooch, he's annoying strangers by sidling up close and starting intrusive conversations. For a while, he's happy in his unhappiness — but after his only friends move away and his ill dad takes a turn for the worse, he finds himself yearning for a connection. Looking up childhood pals and hooking up with women in the supermarket doesn't work, so he tracks down his ex-wife Pippi (Laura Dern), only to learn that he has a 17-year-old daughter (Isabella Amara).

Clowes wrote the screenplay himself, while Johnson previously — and effectively — delved into dysfunction in The Skeleton Twins. Despite this, Wilson simply isn't the winning collaboration it could've been. Instead of providing any real insights into its motley crew of miserable souls, or fleshing them out beyond easy caricatures, the film instead uses its array of characters for eccentric amusement and overt sentiment. An old man doesn't literally yell at a cloud, but it wouldn't feel out of place. The same is true of a big schmaltzy family hug.

Of course, if there had been a huge hearty embrace, there's no prizes for guessing who would've been in the middle — and who would've been forced to the edges. Films about curmudgeonly men too often run loving eyes over their protagonists while pushing women to the side. Here, Dern shines brighter than the material asks, while the always-great Judy Greer is squandered in yet another thankless girlfriend role. Ultimately, their treatment is emblematic of a feature that only knows how to do one thing well. Wilson, the man, may serve up great work from Harrelson, but Wilson, the movie, soon proves that 94 minutes in the character's company are far too many.