Wilson

I often love it when I meet people like Wilson (Woody Harrelson).

Feisty and self-taught, they're often up to date with what was popular in the past and can describe many scenes from their favourite films in playfully obnoxious detail.

Extroverted by nature, Wilsons talk and talk and talk about whatever pops into their heads, they have no filter at all and no ability whatsoever to discursively blend with different demographics.

I'm quite introverted and I'm used to navigating fussier domains where you have to watch what you say while people encourage you to speak freely, so it's always refreshing when I encounter free-spirited autodidacts who are flush with alternative phrases and expressions, even if I can only hack it for short periods before returning to my regenerative lair.

They're like conspiratorial sages, blending the hackneyed and the probable with instinctual brazen whiplash, blindly imagining that their interlocutors don't mind being consistently insulted, as they apply their cynical observations to whatever detail those with whom they are conversing are friendly enough to share.

They don't seem to understand that they've caused offence nor that the knowledge they've acquired may on occasion lack truth value.

But they proceed with the unabashed confidence of Olympian gods as they try to create a better world, casually interjecting fact with fiction to elucidate grizzly ideals, practical premonitions, while dis/harmoniously doing whatever they feel like at all times.

Impoverished Joes with aristocratic psychologies.

Try listening a bit longer the next time you meet one.

I usually find it's worth it.

Craig Johnson's Wilson mischievously speaks his mind and loves to talk to strangers as he travels about in search of company.

It isn't the greatest film, in fact the only other person watching it with me in the theatre left halfway through, sort of like St. Vincent's rusty doppelgänger, a valiant effort lacking sustained momentum.

But it does improve about halfway through, shortly before Wilson winds up in prison, and from that point onwards unreels with captivating vulgarity.

When I consider the first half I keep thinking, "that should have been funnier, it's fun to think about what happened anyways, even if the actual dialogue wasn't that funny and lacked any condemned cohesivity."

Harrelson's performance is great but he couldn't turn the bland dribble into something you'd recommend to someone you don't like.

Even if it had been great the whole way through, it would still be glibly satisfying to know someone you don't like, someone who probably doesn't like Wilsons, will have to put up with Wilson for 90 odd minutes.

Could have been better.

Still, don't shut it down midway.

The Skeleton Twins

Crippling depressions cope with mundane predictability as a brother and sister are reunited after an attempted suicide in Craig Johnson's The Skeleton Twins, mundane predicability in regards to the lives their leading, not in relation to the film, which is a sensitive reflective chill occasionally brash comment on the applicability of predetermined roles, the individuals who play them (wife, husband, actor, . . .), the results of their interactions, and the coming together of kindred spirits.

The sister, Maggie (Kristen Wiig), is married to a boring yet supportive excessively positive husband (Luke Wilson as Lance) who provides her with stability but strongly lacks an exhilarating thrill factor, which she finds with other men while taking different courses after work.

The brother, Milo (Bill Hader), has been struggling to find acting work in LA, and after drinking too much one night, decides to take his own life.

They meet up for the first time in 10 years shortly thereafter and Milo then decides to return to his hometown in upstate New York to live with Maggie while he recuperates.

They're both somewhat bipolar, and suicidal, so when they're getting along, we're treated to witty caustic unconcerned distracted deadpan takes on living, and when things break down, things often breaking down after something great happens, things turn ugly, vindictive and spiteful, each trying to play a parental role as the other screws up, historical controversies complicating things further.

Neither has had much guidance that has helped over the years, and both crave regular adventurous stimuli to transcend routine frustrations.

It's well-acted, well-written, and the best comedic drama I've seen since Stand Up Guys.

I don't think I've ever seen two former Saturday Night Live actors perform so well in a film this low key and striking.

They convincingly struggle with issues of life and death in a relatable way complete with thoughtful advice which isn't over the top or endearingly ridiculous.

Wilson's great too.

Casting by Avy Kaufman.