(andPOP) - I have mentioned before that I like studio films - good ones - but have also seen enough of them to recognize the off-the-shelf formulas, the test audience-driven elements, the ingredients calculated to elicit gasps, groans, cheers, arousal and - ideally - repeat business from various segments of moviegoers. Rare is the studio film that feels like its makers genuinely wanted to entertain you - most of them begin with a producer (or producers) deciding a given idea will attract a profitable audience, and everyone from the director on down making sure the resulting film does so. If moviegoers are lucky, it will be entertaining.
Independent movies, on the other hand, are made with a greater purpose in mind. Profit matters - always has, always will - but independent filmmakers know that art house audiences are after quality, not predictability, and that a good movie will typically yield good business.
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist is not an example of why I see independent movies.
You can feel the wheels of the screenplay turning from the moment the film opens. Every word that Nick (Michael Cera) speaks into his ex-girlfriend's answering machine (which he erases before delivering) is for the benefit of the audience; each line at Norah's (Kat Dennings) high school either establishes that A) she hates Nick's ex (Alexis Dziena); B) is perfect for Nick; or C) has the sort of relationship with her friend Caroline (Ari Graynor) that will get one or both of them in trouble. To get Nick out of his New Jersey home and Norah from high school, their favourite independent band, Where's Fluffy, announces a surprise concert which could be at any one of five (or more) locations. Nick's band happens to be playing at the first location Norah visits. When Nick and Norah meet and decide they don't like each other, Caroline, who's now drunk, goes missing. And so on.
A public service announcement: the film contains one of the most gag-inducing running jokes in recent memory. A wad of gum, initially chewed by Caroline, is thrown up and lands in a used toilet at Penn station. With her bare hands (and the camera focused firmly on the toilet bowl and its tranluscent chocolate-coloured water), Caroline frees her gum from the murky depths and sticks it back into her mouth. She isn't the last person to chew it either. I haven't heard an audience collectively groan like that since the hair gel scene in There's Something About Mary.
To be fair, the movie handles a pair of typically bungled elements especially well: that Cera's bandmates are gay is established with a single line ("you don't know what it's like to be straight"), and instead of mining it for laughs, the film acknowledges their sexuality and moves on. Likewise, it's clear none of the main characters are virgins, but their activities are neither exploited nor ignored; they're simply acknowledged when needed and remain offstage when not.
The two leads are well cast. As Nick, Michael Cera may not look like the kind of guy who would command Kat Dennings' attention during a concert, but in every other aspect he's perfect. In her first lead role, Dennings (Catherine Keener's daughter in The 40-Year-Old Virgin) handles herself admirably, wearing a tentative smile that suggests far more character development than the script does.
The problem is the long arm of the plot remains tangled in everything until the last half hour, at which point Nick and Norah are progressing smoothly, but without any surprises. The film is an unabashed crowd-pleaser, as engaging, warm-hearted - and calculated - as any studio-backed Oscar winner.
