Definitely, Maybe boasts a unique structure for a commercial
romantic-comedy, but misses its opportunity to use this trait
for the better. In fact, by the end of the film, I was genuinely
creeped out by the scenario that writer/director Adam Brooks had
laid before me.
Ryan Reynolds plays Will Hayes, a likable
guy who has had some bad luck in the world of romance. As
Definitely, Maybe opens, Will is in the process of
finalizing divorce papers that will end his marriage. Most
crushed by his decision to separate from his wife is Will’s
daughter, Maya (Abigail Breslin), who he now only gets to spend
a couple nights a week with.
Amidst the hardships caused by her parents’
separation, Maya begs Will to tell her about how he met her mom
in the form of a bed-time story. Will decides to play along with
Maya’s proposition, but also chooses to spice matters up by
including in the tale all three of the women that he has had
serious relationships with in the past. (He changes their names,
of course, so that Maya won’t be able to tell which one is her
mom until the conclusion of the story.) The women are Emily
(Elizabeth Banks), Will’s high-school sweetheart who he had to
part with when leaving their hometown to work for Bill Clinton’s
1992 presidential campaign in New York City; Summer (Rachel
Weitz), Emily’s Manhattan-based, kinky old friend; and April (Isla
Fisher), the resident copy-girl at the Clinton Camp.
Definitely, Maybe comes across as
being pleasant enough in its first act. As I mentioned before,
the set-up proves intriguing, especially when one considers the
fact that it belongs to the usually-blasé romantic-comedy genre.
But as the story progresses, it becomes unexpectedly eerie. As
Will tells his cute-as-a-button, barely double-digit-aged
daughter about the nitty-gritty details of his love-life, the
movie’s content becomes morally questionable. Isn’t there
something inherently wrong with the idea of a grown man fondly
reminiscing about his ex-lovers to a young girl? At one point in
the movie, Will even slips and tells Maya that Summer admitted
to once having lesbian group-sex with Emily, only to later raise
her standards and begin fornicating with her much-older college
thesis-adviser (Kevin Kline). To say the least, the exercise
will leave any rational viewer who takes the narrative literally
feeling a bit alienated.
Sure, the performances in the movie are all
likable. Reynolds reveals uncanny potential as a leading-man; he
crafts a character that is thankfully far more relatable and
affable than any real person who has ever worked for Bill
Clinton could be. Breslin mainly just smiles and giggles in her
part, but she retains every bit of the charm that she had in the
lead-role in Little Miss Sunshine. Likewise, the three
ladies in the movie (Banks, Weitz, and Fisher) all make for
believable romantic-interests for Reynolds’ character. Still,
the fact that Definitely, Maybe is as sympathetic a movie
as it is makes it all the more disillusioning. I can’t imagine
any thinking viewer not questioning the ethics of Will’s
much-too-graphic confessions to Maya as they watch them unfold.
Nevertheless, I can at least give the movie
credit for being mildly interesting in the way that it thinks
outside the box in presenting itself. Even when I was mildly
offended by Definitely, Maybe, the movie always had me
intrigued by the motions of its plot. For the sake of remaining
optimistic about the state of mainstream cinema as whole, I’ll
merely concede that the film is a failed exercise that may
ultimately pave the way for equally clever, but more thoughtful
entries in what many of us critics had previously written off as
an insipid genre. As misguided as Definitely, Maybe is,
it very well may represent a step in the right direction after
all.
