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Walking into I Smile Back, a movie advertising a very dour Sarah Silverman in the festival photo still, I half expected a repeat of Cake. A movie where a comedic actor grumps around pouting until we all want to commit suicide so she can have a new bullet point on her resume touting versatility. There are a lot of festival movies that feel like they were conceived by an actor’s publicist, and the best policy is “just say no.” Here, just take my esteem! Please don’t make me watch it, please!
I Smile Back isn’t that, or at least, it’s a better version of it. There was a moment where a crying Sarah Silverman, her nose wet from doing cocaine, sneaks into her daughter’s room and masturbates in the prone on top of a teddy bear. It was at that exact moment, the room deadly silent between Silverman’s stifled sobs, that a man sitting in my row began snoring. LOUDLY. While Sarah Silverman hit rock bottom, masturbating with her daughter’s teddy bear. It was the best moment of the film, probably the entire festival.
There’s a good movie in I Smile Back, buried beneath all the moping. Sarah Silverman’s soccer mom on the brink rails coke off her iPhone, gets buttf*cked by her manstress, and worst of all, double parks at her kids’ obnoxious helicopter parent school. All to escape the hell of being married to her boring chode of a husband. He’s written some kind of self-help book called “Hedging Your Bets Against God,” about the value of life insurance or something, a nice decorative touch atop the boring-insurance-agent trope. Thing is, Silverman’s character rarely seems to be enjoying herself during all this naughtiness, except for a few brief moments, mostly during the buttf*cking. And who wants to watch someone act out if they’re not even enjoying it?
It’s not just that I’d rather watch Sarah Silverman do cocaine and anal than work through her issues with a therapist (though, duh, I would), it’s also that all the moping and whining paints her character into a victimhood corner. And victims are no fun. It’s the escaping that’s the fun. Feeling trapped isn’t a story, it’s a backstory. I Smile Back’s script has them inverted.
Also, I’d rather watch adults dressed like children and have to use my imagination than try to believe child actors this bad. To be fair to the child actors here, or to their presumably creepy stage parents, I Smile Back‘s script isn’t doing them any favors with its nauseating infantilized dialogue. “Yay, Daddy, you’re here!” “Mommy, I wuv you this much!” Gag me, you Hallmark freaks. At one point, Silverman’s character is talking to her son who’s in the tub and I thought “Wait, isn’t that kid like 10?” A 10-year-old boy whose mom still bathes him is weird, and I didn’t get the sense the filmmakers knew this. Don’t just breeze through a serial killer’s origin story and act like its a sweet family moment.
Sarah Silverman is a capable Dramatic Actress willing to do Serious Movies full of Sadness and Tasteful Nudity. This should not be a revelation, she’s great. So I can’t give the movie much credit for it. I Smile Back has moments of brilliance, mostly the ones where Silverman’s character takes control over her spiral out of control. But the film seems almost embarrassed that we should enjoy them. Why should we be? I’d rather the writer own and explore those subconscious urges to do drugs, have extra-marital anal sex, and masturbate on teddy bears than try to cure them. A character healing may make for a nice arc and a happy ending, but it’s only the rationalization for what we really want to see.
Grade: C+ (a new ending and a few cuts could easily bump it up to B range)
Vince Mancini is a writer and comedian living in San Francisco. You can find more of his work on FilmDrunk, the Uproxx network, the Portland Mercury, the East Bay Express, and all over his mom’s refrigerator. Fan FilmDrunk on Facebook, find the latest movie reviews here.
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Is Jeff Goldlbum the manstress? God, I hope so.
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That .gif is something else.
Looks like Matt Ufford in that photo. Is he the disappointing husband or the buttfucker?
The Buttfucker sounds like either a skin flick from the 70’s, or a character edited out of The Watchmen.
Oh god please tell me she’s yelling “BRING BACK MATT!” during said butt fucking from behind.
There was a moment where a crying Sarah Silverman, her nose wet from doing cocaine, sneaks into her daughter’s room and masturbates in the prone on top of a teddy bear.
The turnaround time on that Ted 2 reaction poster is impressive.
Masturbating teddy bears are the new parkour.
Correction: I’m being told parkour is still the new parkour. Masturbating teddy bears are, however, the new jesus pose, which was of course the old parkour. More on this story as it develops.
“A 10-year-old boy whose mom still bathes him is weird.” Seriously, by 9 I was bathing my mom.
My girlfriend’s kid has had ADD so bad all his life he might as well be autistic (and this was a DOCTOR’S opinion) and at 9 he can shower himself.
@kazoshay I don’t know if we’re talking incest situation or quadriplegic situation. Either way I’m still turned on.
There was a moment where a crying Sarah Silverman, her nose wet from doing cocaine, sneaks into her daughter’s room and masturbates in the prone on top of a teddy bear.
—-
Sprinkle in a few references of smelly mexicans, sumthin sumthin cuz I’m jewish, sumthin’ sumthin blah people and you’ve got Silverman’s stand up act.
Why would her nose be wet? Isn’t it a fine white powder? Why are you soo stupid?
“Sprinkle in a few references of smelly mexicans, sumthin sumthin cuz I’m jewish, sumthin’ sumthin blah people and you’ve got Silverman’s stand up act.”
I have no doubt that’s all idiots hear when she does it.
Because Silverman’s act is very cerebral.
I’m thoroughly enjoying the juxtaposition of Vince’s and Mike Ryan’s Sundance reviews. I like to imagine them hanging out there together while Mike’s got a permanent sunbeam shining down on him, making a rainbow behind him while he skips along with some cotton candy and wide-eyed optimism; meanwhile, Vince has a miniature stormcloud lingering over his head while he surreptitiously guzzles whiskey from a flask to try and stifle the barely-contained rage at the lineup of films he has to sit through that day.
+1
He definitely got luckier in the first round of screenings. I showed up late so I haven’t gotten into many of my “first choice” screenings yet, and have just been going to press screenings. Still, ’71 was pretty good.
I read this before I read the ’71 review. That one does look pretty dope.
No means yes and yes means anal.
So your main gripe with the character, and Silverman’s performance is that she doesn’t “enjoy herself during all the naughtiness”? Seems like not enjoying any of it is kind of what the character is all about.
I have no gripe with Silverman’s performance. My gripe with the movie is that it’s dull.
I didn’t like Dom Hemingway because he was always painting himself as a victim instead of just realizing he was a jackass (despite a great performance by Jude Law and his sidekick). Filth was way better at the depravety and instead of claiming victimhood, James McCavoy’s character confesses and pays the price. It sounds like this is more of the DH route, which is a shame because I Smile Back has anal.
.
You said it, man!
Sarah Silverman is Melissa McCarthy if you replace being fat with being Jewish, and substitute prat falls with potty mouth attention whoring.
Well, in that case, you should die in a fire.
A fax machine is just a telephone with a toaster oven attached to it.
Are you sure she’s having anal, and not just gettin’ fucked from behind? Like, does she have to time her poops just right, and maybe there’s a scene where complains of being constipated? Because that’s the difference between theater and Netflix right there.
If Silverman looked like Rachel Dratch, she’d be serving Rachel Dratch her latte at Starbucks.