Tumbledown

There are many reasons to dismiss TUMBLEDOWN -- and an equal number of reasons to love it; and both feelings will wax and wane throughout the film. For starters, though both leads -- especially Sudeikis, whom we haven't seen in such a meaty role very often -- bring their best efforts to the movie, they just don't have that much spark. And this story relies on that magic heavily, given that the script is sometimes maudlin and hard to believe. (Why someone as smart, independent, and lovely as Hannah would fall for the abrasive and sometimes-condescending Andrew is beyond us.)

Second, the music: Hannah's ex is the third lead here, and his palpable absence relies on his voice and music captured on recordings. He's hailed as the next Bob Dylan, cut down before his prime, but the little bits of his legacy we hear aren't quite the stuff about which academics like Andrew dream of writing tenure-sealing books. And another small quibble: Why cast Blythe Danner as Hannah's mother when she's only given one really good scene? What saves Tumbledown from being a non-starter is Hall, who's a proven multi-layered thespian, and a very distinct sense of place. It's very easy to imagine a mournful musician finding solace in this small Maine town and being inspired by it.