Brendan Fraser's latest cinematic venture, Rental Family, has landed with a thud. The Canadian-born actor brings his trademark everyman charm to the lead role of Phillip, an unemployed American actor who becomes embroiled in Japan's bizarre "rental family" industry.
For those unfamiliar, these firms offer bespoke therapeutic role-play services where clients can pay to interact with actors playing different roles, such as grieving spouses, deceased loved ones, or unsatisfactory colleagues. It's a concept that sounds more like a scene from a farcical episode of The Simpsons than a genuine attempt at therapy.
Fraser's Phillip becomes a makeshift father figure to a young girl whose single mother needs a respectable guardian for an elite private school interview, while also playing the part of a grieving son for an ageing actor. The roles are absurdly conflated, with no apparent attempt to reconcile their contradictions. This is not just a case of role-playing; it's a desperate attempt to fill emotional voids.
Rental Family has all the makings of a satire: it lampoons societal expectations and the performative nature of human relationships. However, instead of embracing its absurdity, the film settles for saccharine platitudes about the importance of embracing our roles in life. The result is a tone that veers wildly from farcical to maudlin.
A more thoughtful approach might have revealed the inherent contradictions and vulnerabilities at play. Instead, we're treated to a film that sidesteps these complexities, opting for an unearned feel-good ending. Werner Herzog's Family Romance, LLC (2019) and Yorgos Lanthimos's Alps (2012) both probed similar themes with more nuance, but even those films were uncertain in their conclusions.
Rental Family is a misfire, one that fails to grasp the subtleties of its own concept. The film's lack of self-awareness makes it feel like an opportunistic cash-grab rather than a genuine exploration of human connection. Fraser's performance, usually so dependable, is undermined by this tone-deaf script. With Rental Family, it's clear that sometimes less can be more – or, in this case, more can lead to less.
For those unfamiliar, these firms offer bespoke therapeutic role-play services where clients can pay to interact with actors playing different roles, such as grieving spouses, deceased loved ones, or unsatisfactory colleagues. It's a concept that sounds more like a scene from a farcical episode of The Simpsons than a genuine attempt at therapy.
Fraser's Phillip becomes a makeshift father figure to a young girl whose single mother needs a respectable guardian for an elite private school interview, while also playing the part of a grieving son for an ageing actor. The roles are absurdly conflated, with no apparent attempt to reconcile their contradictions. This is not just a case of role-playing; it's a desperate attempt to fill emotional voids.
Rental Family has all the makings of a satire: it lampoons societal expectations and the performative nature of human relationships. However, instead of embracing its absurdity, the film settles for saccharine platitudes about the importance of embracing our roles in life. The result is a tone that veers wildly from farcical to maudlin.
A more thoughtful approach might have revealed the inherent contradictions and vulnerabilities at play. Instead, we're treated to a film that sidesteps these complexities, opting for an unearned feel-good ending. Werner Herzog's Family Romance, LLC (2019) and Yorgos Lanthimos's Alps (2012) both probed similar themes with more nuance, but even those films were uncertain in their conclusions.
Rental Family is a misfire, one that fails to grasp the subtleties of its own concept. The film's lack of self-awareness makes it feel like an opportunistic cash-grab rather than a genuine exploration of human connection. Fraser's performance, usually so dependable, is undermined by this tone-deaf script. With Rental Family, it's clear that sometimes less can be more – or, in this case, more can lead to less.