Consider A Big Bold Beautiful Journey a case of false advertising, as Kogonada’s romantic drama boasts a modest scale, moderate ambition, and—no matter its attractive leads—a studied, airless sort of loveliness.
Hitting theaters Sept. 19, the director’s third feature (following Columbus and After Yang) is his shakiest yet, peddling twee amorous fantasy via the story of a man and woman brought together by fate, which in this case is personified by two rental car agents and a magical GPS that guides them along their odyssey.
Stranding stars Colin Farrell and Margot Robbie on a road to nowhere but maudlin and manipulative heartstring-tugging, this wannabe winsome fairy tale about confronting fears, atoning for sins, and forgiving oneself is a pile-up of preciousness.
Emerging from his brownstone, whose door is the same blue that will trail him for the remainder of the film, David (Farrell) tells his parents on the phone that he likes being alone, to which his father (Hamish Linklater) replies that he should “be open.” Upon hanging up, David discovers that his car has been booted, thereby complicating his plan to attend a friend’s wedding.
Fortune smiles upon him, however, by way of a posted for The Car Rental Agency, which claims that they’ve been “specializing in emergencies since 1994.” At the business’ remote office, he struggles to get inside (“Doors are tricky!” says the person on the other end of the buzzer) and, upon succeeding, he enters a giant warehouse where two mysterious figures—one (Phoebe Waller-Bridge) with a deliberately phony German accent, the other (Kevin Kline) with a soft-spoken gruff voice—explain that the only vehicle they lease is a 1994 Saturn SL. After some cutesy chitchat in which Waller-Bridge’s character remarks that everyone “performs,” she convinces David to get the GPS feature.
David is bemused, albeit not enough to suggest that he’s an actual person confronting a bizarre turn of events, and he continues to go with the weirdo flow when, at the nuptials, he meets Sarah (Robbie), who’s also dateless and, despite their obvious chemistry, acts standoffish.
The reason for her coldness, she reveals, is that she’s sure she’ll hurt him (since that’s her thing) and is worried that he’ll hurt her. Because of this, Sarah is convinced that she shouldn’t tie the knot, whereas David confesses that he’s always wanted to be a husband and father. At this, Sarah impulsively proposes to David, indicating to him that she’s capital-T trouble. When he refuses to dance with her, she bolts and spends the night with another guy, and David retires to his room alone, Kogonada framing the two in symmetrical windows with a daintiness that epitomizes these proceedings.
The next morning, David’s GPS asks him if he wants to embark on a big, bold, beautiful journey, and when he says yes, he’s guided to a rest stop to have a “fast food cheeseburger”—which is precisely what Sarah (whose GPS, we’ve heard, is identical to his) is doing at this moment.
This technology-facilitated second meet-cute is the nominal start of A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, and after their meal, Sarah’s car won’t start, forcing her to hop in David’s ride. Their satellite directional system subsequently takes them to a stand-alone door (à la Monsters Inc. or Stephen King’s The Dark Tower) in the middle of a forest, and behind it is a lighthouse that David once visited. From here, more transportive passageways await, offering the duo opportunities to revisit their painful pasts and come to terms with the hurt stymying their presents.
A Big Bold Beautiful Journey’s conceit has been designed for whimsical romanticism, with David and Sarah tumbling down a GPS-enabled rabbit hole of memories and traumas that provide them with insight into the source of their problems. Yet the film (written by Seth Reiss) never establishes a clear boundary between reality and fantasy; from their initial appearances, David and Sarah appear to be operating as if in a dream, such that they barely react with astonishment or concern at their peculiar circumstances.
Consequently, there’s no enchantment to the oh-so-sorrowful places they go, nor to the epiphanies they experience. Though they travel far, both literally and figuratively, they seem to be in a state of perpetual semi-dazed and confused stasis that drains them of any flesh-and-blood authenticity.
Robbie and Farrell mesh nicely but A Big Bold Beautiful Journey is affected to the core, full of flourishes that fail to charm. Kogonada shouts out multiple cinematic influences (The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Big) and goes full-bore into weepy territory courtesy of David’s trip back to a high school play that was marred by a failed “I love you” to a paramour, and Sarah’s childhood home where she gets to have one last night with the mother (Lily Rabe) who passed away too soon.
Through a chat with, and then chance to be, his dad, David learns that maybe his parents were right about him being “special.” Sarah, meanwhile, enjoys mashed potatoes with her mom and comes to understand that her relationship difficulties are the byproduct of abandonment issues dating back to her teens. The film’s psychologizing is neat and tidy, and hampered by the fact that its protagonists are simply theatrical constructs.
Everything about Robbie and Farrell’s dynamic—their shared looks, their hesitant gestures, their maiden kiss—feels mannered, and the film’s lack of spontaneity renders it lifeless. Be it a sit-down between the two characters and their exes, during which they’re grilled on the reasons for being such callous jerks, or a hike to a heavenly peak where they gaze down on the glowing Earth below, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey strains for quixotic flair and comes up with merely storybook triteness.
Kogonada’s touch is calculatingly tender in A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, and that self-consciousness sabotages any late-act bids for pathos. His latest is a work that has all the ingredients for an entrancing reverie, but ultimately substitutes great gobs of sap for substance.
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