Following the launch of her new novel, 35-year-old writer Kate is invited to speak at her alma matter by her former professor. After accepting the invitation, Kate finds herself deeply enmeshed in the lives of a group of college students.
Here’s a well-meaning film that steps wrong in every major conceivable way. Kris Rey’s “I Used to Go Here” feels like it’s been shelved for years, with its distributor having no idea how or when to release or promote it — and then COVID struck, and what better time for a granola little indie that you’ve seen a billion times before? Considering the talent involved, both behind and in front of the camera, it’s truly wondrous how bland the final product ended up being.
What initially starts off as a moderately enticing premise — hack writer Kate (Gillian Jacobs) returns to her hometown and reconnects with her former writing professor David (Jemaine Clement) — quickly turns sour. David steps out of the picture for the majority of the film, while Kate decides to relive her adolescence with the young college kids across the street — all cookie-cutter, super-nice, hipster dweebs with nothing compelling to distinguish them from each other (aside from one character’s height). It’s as if Rey deliberately side-stepped any potentially intriguing concepts, choosing to go with the most mundane of plots and characters.
The film casually makes light of sexual predators: David is sleeping with one of his students, Kate sleeps with one of the college students, and another kid makes out with a woman two or maybe three times his age. A light romcom about middle-aged people finding salvation/inspiration in innocent, aspiring young souls by bedding them? If that’s your thing, delve right in.
The framing is all off. At one point, Kate confronts jail-bait heartthrob Hugo (Josh Wiggins) about her deepest inhibitions — in a rote, coma-inducing sequence — and Rey films their “tender” exchange from the back, ridding us of the basic pleasure of watching Jacobs emote, and consequently rendering the scene that much more unbearable.
Wasting Jacobs is the film’s cardinal sin. She’s a fantastic actress who deserves better than this bottom-of-the-barrel stuff. Her natural charisma, and that alone, propels the film to its final, “never thought it would come,” 80th minute. Clement looks uncomfortable, miscast, but at least his trademark mannerisms spice things up a bit (though the supposedly dramatic confrontation at the end is supremely undercut by said mannerisms). Scene-stealer Jorma Taccone pops up all-too-briefly, doesn’t do or say anything memorable, then disappears — just another example of Rey oddly neglecting what works in favor of what doesn’t.
And what doesn’t work is the whole “mid-America, reconnecting with your roots, rediscovering your passion in a small town while a soundtrack plays that’s so granola you could crunch on it” schtick. Nothing here is remotely amusing, illuminating, insightful, or even just, you know, fun. In one scene, Kate is saddened by a scathing review of her book. Trouble is, the film is just as trite, hokey and predictable as her book allegedly is. At least her book looks fun, despite the terrible cover.
Available on Digital HD September 14th
