The Last Five Years

About one-third of the way through The Last Five Years, I tweeted, "Are you supposed to hate Jamie with the fire of a thousand suns?" (I was watching the film On Demand, by the way. I would never tweet at the movies!). Jamie (Jeremy Jordan) is the male lead in what is essentially a two-person musical, based on the Off-Broadway show of the same name. Anna Kendrick plays Cathy, the girl he woos and marries. The gimmick of the musical (which is Sondheim-esque, virtually no dialogue, with story-songs that advance the plot), is that both Jamie and Cathy tell their side of the story, but in reverse. Cathy, a struggling actress, starts off singing a sad breakup song; Jamie, a successful novelist, starts off crowing about having met his "shiksa goddess." By the end of the movie, Cathy will sing about having just fallen in love ("Goodbye til tomorrow") and Jamie will sing about why he needs to leave her ("I could never rescue you!"). But here's the thing: Jamie is the worst. Seriously, he's a garbage person. And I'm not quite sure the play/film, written by Jason Robert Brown and directed by Richard LaGravenese is aware of that fact.

In fact, The Last Five Years reminded me a bit of those letters people sometimes send to advice columnists where they're looking for some vindication, some confirmation of how right they are when, in fact, it's clear that they're just complete assholes. If Jamie were to write such a letter—with me as the advice columnist—it might go like this.

Dear Maxie,

It all started out so great! I met this beautiful girl, my very own shiksa goddess, named Cathy (take that, mom!) and she was my muse—I did my best writing in years when we met. In fact, things went so well that Random House bought my book! Can you believe that? I was so excited, I called up Cathy right away and asked her to move in with me. Everything was going my way! Unfortunately, Cathy's acting career wasn't doing so hot, but she got to accompany me to all these cool literary parties in Manhattan and bask in my glory. Plus, I was always telling her how much I believed in her, even if I was never actually around for her shows and things (she never made it to Broadway; she did summer stock in Ohio. Like I had time to hang out in Ohio.)

I thought things would get better once we were married, but they didn't. If anything, Cathy got more whiny about how it was always all about me and how I was never there for her. I said to her, "I will not lose just because you can't win"* Besides, had she forgotten that I believed in her? That was all that counted!

Alright, so there was this one thing. Once I got famous all these beautiful women were throwing themselves at me and, man, it was rough. But I remained faithful (I mean, I was a saint) until I just couldn't anymore. I'm only human, right? And Cathy, with all of her relentless failure was really dragging me down. So finally, I left her. I need to be in love with someone*, you know? I think we just weren't good for each other. I did her a favor by letting her go.

Signed,

The Next Jonathan Franzen* (my agent said so!)

Of course, a film can have a hateful character and still be good. (Look only as far as this year's Listen Up, Philip as a prime example.) But the film has to know the character is hateful. That, I think is where The Last Five Years goes wrong. It sees Jamie and Cathy as equally culpable in their relationship's demise—if anything, it suggests that she was the one who just didn't try hard enough.

Anyway, putting that side, how's the rest of the movie? Um…okay? The Last Five Years is a wonderful showcase for Anna Kendrick, because it requires both a strong voice and dramatic chops. Yes, Kendrick is a better actress than she is a singer, but she's a fine singer, all the same—and the "libretto tells the story" quality of the musical is perfect for her. As for Broadway (and Smash!) vet Jeremy Jordan, I felt like he was trying to overcompensate for the awfulness his character by laying on the charm extra thick. (I was amazed he didn't end up with a flower between his teeth at some point.) As a performer, he's like Kendrick in reverse: A solid, if unspectacular actor, with a wonderful, rich baritone I could listen to all day.

Any time I see a movie musical, I ask myself the same question: Does it make a case for itself as a film? The Last Five Years simply doesn't. There's one inventive sequence, when Cathy is making a video call from summer stock and we see her backstage, on stage, and then from the perspective of a video camera—but mostly the staging feels obvious and one-dimensional. Ultimately, the musical just didn't work its magic on me. The ending is supposed to be unbearably poignant—the relationship ending and beginning at the same time. But all I could think was: Oh dear—in some parallel universe it's all beginning again.

*Actual line from a song

*Also, an actual line from a song

*Yup

The Last Five Years is available on iTunes and On Demand.