Review: Jeff, Who Lives at Home

       Jeff, Who Lives at Home feels like a low-budget, independent movie; however, if you take a step back you notice things that must've cost a pretty penny that independent movies can't afford. Even if we ignore the big name actors, there's a scene where a Porsche is totaled, as well as another scene that would've involved shutting down a bridge and some relatively serious stunts. While the budget is still relatively small compared to big blockbusters, it's certainly sizable for a mumbleore film such as this. It's a wonderful blend of the cozy, quirky aesthetic of a small independent film, married with the freedom of a big(ish)-budget.

       Jeff (Jason Segel) is an unemployed, unmarried 30 year old living in his mother's basement in Baton Rouge surrounded by a loud of pot smoke. He believes that the world is full of meaningful signs directing you towards your destiny, and all you have to do is pay attention. After receiving a wrong number phone call asking for someone named Kevin, Jeff gets the idea that maybe there are no wrong numbers, that every phone call is meant for the person that answers. Jeff's mother Sharon (Susan Sarandon) demands that Jeff get out of the house and replace the shutter on the kitchen door, but Jeff is quickly distracted by a kid with “Kevin” on the back of his shirt. Eventually, Jeff runs into his brother Pat (Ed Helms), a douchey retail manager who is going through a rough patch with his wife (Judy Greer); she wants to save money to buy a house, and he just bought the aforementioned Porsche because he got a good deal. After seeing his wife about town with a mysterious man, Pat becomes convinced that she is cheating on him and enlists Jeff to help him get to the bottom of the apparent infidelity. Meanwhile, Sharon works away in her cubicle and receives an anonymous message from a secret admirer and she tries to figure out who it could be.

       This movie is emotional and melodramatic, without sacrificing being fun. Segel is a delight as a stoner obsessed with dissecting the hidden meaning of M. Night Shyamalan's Signs. He's a lovable goof, searching for direction in his life. Helms also surprises as he plays against type. We're used to seeing him play the nice guy either on “The Office” or in movies like Cedar Rapids and The Hangover. Here he is an out and out asshole who thinks that Hooters is an appropriate place for a business meeting. The script mirrors Jeff's analysis of Signs at the beginning of the movie. It sort of meanders around without any real direction until it all comes together in one climactic scene. The use of this sort of hacky trope in screenwriting as a sort meta-commentary on the film itself salvages the plot a little, but I'm not entirely sure it was worth it. The direction is a little weak, as the cinematography over utilizes snap zooms, but the Duplass brothers have proven their skill in previous films like Cyrus, so we can take faith in their continued growth.