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We Were On a Break!

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The Sun Never Sets

by George Wolf

Buried deep in the guts of The Sun Never Sets is a movie we’ve seen plenty of times. It’s that amusing, sometimes zany rom-com where two impossibly attractive people slowly find their way to each to other. We know they’ll be together, it’s just a question of how enjoyable the journey will be.

And that can be a perfectly fine, easily forgettable time at the movies.

Joe Swanberg doesn’t make those movies. His stories are lived-in slices of humanity, often filled with easygoing humor, stellar performances and easily relatable characters who must navigate compelling pushes and pulls.

The Sun Never Sets has all of that, and it may be his finest film to date.

Dakota Fanning is simply fantastic as Wendy, a construction worker in Alaska whose two-year relationship with Jack (Jake Johnson, terrific) is suddenly at a serious crossroads. Jack is an older, divorced dad with two kids, and isn’t really interested in adding more wives or children.

He’s worried that Wendy will resent these choices as the years go by, so he insists she take a few months away from him, to “see what’s out there” and decide if she really wants Jack for the long haul.

Reluctantly, she takes that break, and ends up meeting her bad boy ex, Chuck (Cory Michael Smith, Saturday Night‘s Chevy Chase) who’s back in town as a charter pilot for tourists. Sparks are reignited.

And suddenly, Jack wants the break to be over. Imagine that.

Swanberg, doing triple duty as writer/director/editor, again sets a casual pace filled with authentic dialog that’s always propelled by a lovely, improvisational feel. The entire ensemble (also featuring Debby Ryan and Karley Sciortino) shines, each actor carving distinctly human characters amid oversized, Alaska-worthy fashions, a robust adult dating climate and the smell of salmon.

The Sun Never Sets is just a warm, funny, frisky delight. It’s a film that makes you feel you just hit town and are instantly accepted into a circle of friends involved in a juicy love triangle. You’ll get a kick out of where they take you, and where Swanberg leaves you.

Because the finale is something you won’t be expecting, even though you’ll leave the theater thinking you should have seen it coming early on.

Either way, you’ll probably be smiling.

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Live! From New York!

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Saturday Night

by Hope Madden

Saturday Night Live has been on the air for 50 years. That is insane. Most people alive today in the U.S. cannot remember a time before SNL. But Jason Reitman wants you to recall that it wasn’t supposed to work, that it had no business working, and that whatever it is today, it once was an absolute cultural explosion.

Reitman, who directs and co-writes with his Ghostbusters collaborator Gil Kenan, delivers such chaotic energy that you almost forget there is a script. The choreography of longtime collaborator Eric Steelberg’s camera emphasizes the film’s livewire atmosphere, but the fact that Saturday Night pulls off this kind of frenetic lawlessness bears witness to Reitman’s mastery of his craft.

At the center of the whirlwind is Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle, The Fabelmans and Snack Shack). NBC doesn’t really expect this “not ready for prime time” experiment to work. At all. And based on the anarchy leading up to showtime, you wonder yourself, even though we already know the outcome.

LaBelle—an undeniable talent at this point—easily anchors the film with a vulnerability, kindness and optimism that makes Michaels hard to root against but almost as hard to believe in. That conflict is necessary for the film to build any real tension or make any meaningful connection, and LaBelle humanizes the madness.

He’s surrounded by a massive ensemble that impresses with every turn. Reitman chooses to highlight certain personalities you may not expect—Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), sure, but also a show-stealing Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, exceptional). Dylan O’Brien (as Dan Aykroyd), Rachel Sennott (as head writer Rosie Shuster), Cooper Hoffman (as producer Dick Ebersol) and Tommy Dewey (as caustic comedy genius Michael O’Donoghue) are particular stand outs. But the J.K. Simmons cameo as Mr. Television Milton Berle is priceless.

At its heart, Saturday Night fits into that tried-and-true “let’s put on a show” picture, but it’s the remarkable way Reitman captures the cultural shift this program marked that leaves a lasting impression.

Saturday Night also bursts with laugh-out-loud moments, little triumphs, fascinating callbacks and infectious energy. It can be hard to see today’s SNL in this riotous recollection, but there’s real history in these 90 minutes—and so much cocaine. History rarely looked like this much fun.