Wanderlust

Aristotle, in his oft-quoted wisdom once said that “the whole is more than the sum of its parts.” This maxim holds true for many things: Arrested Development, the Wu-Tang Clan, lasagna. The adage, however, proves elusive for Wanderlust. Despite its comedic muscle—a director (David Wain) with a sketch comedy background, a producer (Judd Apatow) with a penchant for raunchy, gut-busting humor and a cast that is so damn likeable you could rename them all Anderson Cooper—Wanderlust comes alive only in a few brief moments, creating a lackluster film unworthy of the talent behind it.

The movie follows George (Paul Rudd) and Linda (Jennifer Aniston), a Manhattan couple forced to relocate after George is downsized from his job. On the way to Atlanta to stay with George’s brother, the couple discovers Elysium, a hippie commune that also functions as a bed and breakfast. The commune is full of bearded, tie-dyed free spirits that seem lifted from our collective imagination: Eva (Malin Akerman), the beautiful blonde who advocates free love; Seth (Justin Theroux), the scraggly hunk full of granola platitudes; and Carvin (Alan Alda), the commune patriarch who is either on the verge of senility or just really stoned. The couple leaves Elysium the next day, but after a brief, nightmarish stay with George’s brother, decides to return. Giving Elysium a two-week trial run, George and Linda will then decide if they want to permanently abandon their chaotic lives in favor of a community that doesn’t believe in doors, or discarding placentas.

Instead of a film that takes full advantage of the cast’s comedic timing, Wanderlust forces characters into their dialogue, which is uncomfortable for both the actor and the audience. There is one moment, however, that feels completely natural and is, in turn, absolutely hilarious—George is trying to convince himself to sleep with Eva as a part of the commune’s free love philosophy, and while practicing his dirty-talk in the mirror, he somehow devolves into what sounds like Will Ferrell’s impersonation of Harry Caray, complete with cringe-worthy facial expressions. But again, Paul Rudd is only a part of the whole.

It would be satisfying, and not without precedent, to blame the film’s tedium on Jennifer Aniston, who at this point is so actively trying to present herself as one-note that I barely have the energy to defend her. But she isn’t the problem. In fact, no one person seems to be at fault. Wain, who previously directed Role Models and the cult hit Wet Hot American Summer, has proven that he can guide a comedy to success; similarly, Apatow has single-handedly catapulted the careers of comedic actors under his direction, Paul Rudd included.

The biggest flaw, then, can be attributed to the whole—the idea that having an urban couple transported to an unfamiliar surrounding full of off-beat characters would be enough to power the movie. The interactions between polar opposites are amusing, but overall, the movie runs like an over-extended joke, certainly not enough to sustain 100 minutes of plot. Somehow the mash-up of so many funny forces cancels each other out. Wanderlust would benefit from taking the advice of another Jennifer Aniston movie: break up.