Away We Go

Every so often one is unfortunate enough to sit through an insufferably smug film whose main characters are equally insufferably smug and therefore have to be surrounded by unsympathetic broad caricatures in order to seem remotely sympathetic. Such is the case with Away We Go. Within the first 10 minutes I was possessed by an almost uncontrollable urge to soundly slap Burt (goofy grin does not equal character) and Verona (despite the latter being 6 months pregnant) who go through the film either whining self-pityingly or basking in self-satisfaction. It's no surprise that Burt's parents head to Belgium at the start. I don't blame them at all. Every other couple in the film is set up as in some way lacking, compared to our golden couple. Clearly no self-respecting future parents would dream of following these examples of child rearing whereas a couple who live in a run-down shack with what appears to be no heating and broken windows, then wander across the country trying to decide where to live (where does the money come from? and if they can go jetsetting, why can't they fix the damn house?) when all along there's a large house in a picturesque setting by a river just waiting for them are obviously paragons of sense and stability. It's a mean-spirited comedy, spitefully setting up the other characters to be laughed at for their failings: Burt's selfish parents; Verona's old boss, a loud, coarse and uncaring mother; Burt's old friend Ellen, a wacky New Age idealogue. In fact, the only characters in the entire film who I genuinely cared about, Verona's college friends Munch and Tom, are clearly meant to be overcompensating for their childlessness via their multi-ethnic adopted brood. And yet, the family home exudes warmth and love, and the moment when Tom reveals that Munch has recently had a fifth miscarriage is by far and away the most moving moment in the entire film. Sod Burt and Verona. This was the couple whose story I wanted to be watching.