It sounds like a comedic formula as artificial as any donor insemination. Take two middle-aged lesbians, their curious angst-y teens, the flighty biological father they've never met, and copious amounts of wine and sex -- what do you get?
In the case of The Kids Are All Right, a film that's smart, contemporary, superbly acted and disarmingly resonant. At a time in Hollywood when movies struggle to be either affecting or funny -- and are often neither -- indie director Lisa Cholodenko's Sundance hit confidently manages to be both. For those familiar with her previous outings -- High Art and Laurel Canyon -- there are familiar tropes, including the hip Los Angeles locale. But Kids, as beguiling as reflective, also stands on its own -- and gratifyingly so.
Julianne Moore and Annette Bening star as Jules and Nic, the aforementioned couple who have raised two children -- bright, university-bound Joni (Alice in Wonderland's Mia Wasikowska) and younger Laser (Josh Hutcherson) -- via sperm bank.
With Joni, now 18, about to head off to university, she and her brother conspire to track down their father. Turns out, he's a low-ebb, emotionally rootless restaurateur named Paul (Mark Ruffalo) who welcomes the notion of getting to know the children he so casually sired.
At first, this paternal reunion unfolds in utmost secrecy. But once the moms find out -- though they initially misread the situation -- Paul's abrupt inclusion into their lives results in unforeseen, ripple effects in Jules and Nic's relationship. You see, Nic is a steel-spined doctor. Landscape designer Jules, conversely, despite her wonky charms, has never equaled her partner's professional success, pin-balling from one career to the next.
So almost immediately, Paul -- a contrast to Nic, who perhaps imbibes a bit too much alcohol -- is vastly appealing to not only Joni and Laser, who enjoy an easy rapport with him, but effervescent Jules, who marvels that she sees her children's faces in his expressions.
The entanglements that develop out of Paul's assimilation into this alt-family unit could have easily degenerated into broad-strokes sitcom farce. But intriguingly, just when you expect the story to become raucous and ridiculous is precisely when Cholodenko and co-screenwriter Stuart Blumberg magnify and deepen the characterizations and conflicts, arriving at a film that feels genuine and sincere and broken-in by life.
Up to the challenge, and clearly relishing roles of unusual substance, are Moore, Ruffalo and Bening -- who could well nab an Oscar nomination for her work as an iron-willed smother-mother for the ages.
