Sometimes literary, sometimes literal, The Only Living Boy In New York still manages to leave a mark despite not having much to add to an exhausting (yet not exhaustive) list of American films modelled after The Graduate.
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Synopsis: New York. Jeff Bridges. Pierce Brosnan. Kate Beckinsale. Millennials. Adultery. Daddy Issues.
There are films that have something to say and there are films that just keep saying things. Based on that dichotomy, I’d imagine The Only Living Boy in New York would have a constantly parched throat.
As absurd as it would seem, this really is a story about how a privileged kid in his late twenties (Callum Turner) grows up through the experience of dealing with his publishing mogul father’s (Brosnan) infidelity with a visibly aged yet ageless Kate Beckinsale who plays Johanna, a freelance editor. That’s right. And I haven’t even told you how.
Hint. Jeff Bridges has a fair bit to do with it. Enigma aside, this isn’t the sort of film that really depends on a complex plot to drive view attention forward. It’s all about the characters. With the names mentioned above and the noteworthy addition of Cynthia Nixon and Kiersey Clemons, the names on the poster are what people will likely turn up for.
And the film’s producers together with Marc Webb (Director, 500 Days of Summer & The Amazing Spiderman series) will hope that their combined intellectual excess, obliviously crafted banter, thinly veiled vulnerability and cumulative charm will keep you hooked for 88 minutes. Well, it just might.
Sometimes literary, sometimes literal, The Only Living Boy In New York still manages to leave a mark despite not having much to add to an exhausting (yet not exhaustive) list of American films modelled after The Graduate.
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