I like Dan Levy. He is something of a quadruple threat and I’ve kept an eye on his career since Schitt’s Creek, which Levy wrote, co-directed, co-produced, and starred in. Schitt’s Creek is an offbeat yet sophisticated comedy about a wealthy family that loses everything and struggles with being poor. The comedy succeeded largely thanks to Levy’s witty, restrained writing, and his uncompromising vision. So, when I heard that Levy was making his feature film directorial debut with Good Grief, I perked up and watched it with great enthusiasm. But as a long-time fan of Levy’s, watching this genuinely caused me quite a bit of grief. And none of it particularly good.
In Good Grief, Levy plays Marc, who seems to have a perfect life: a gorgeous London apartment, glamorous artiste friends, and a husband who’s both hunky and wealthy. But around Christmas, Marc’s husband Oliver (Luke Evans) dies in a tragic car crash and he spends a year struggling both to grieve and get over that sudden death.
On the first anniversary of losing his husband, Marc opens Oliver’s last Christmas card and discovers that Oliver planned to break the news that he had met another man. When their lawyer reveal that Oliver rented a pied-a-terre in Paris, Marc is convinced the apartment was for his dead husband to rendezvous with his mystery lover.
Determined to check out his husband’s secret love nest, but unable to face going alone, Marc invites his two best friends, Sophie and Thomas, to join him in Paris under the pretext of thanking them for supporting him during his year of grief. If only we could all have such generous friends like Marc.
Teenage Ramblers
In their friendship with Marc and their efforts to lift him from sorrow, Sophie and Thomas resemble Freud’s idea that everyone has an id and superego. Impulsive, frisky Sophie is Marc’s id, pushing him to take risks in relationships outside his comfort zone. Thomas, who is honest and introspective, is like Marc’s superego, holding his friend accountable whenever Marc’s selfishness hurts others.
And yet I can’t help but feel that Sophie and Thomas are part of the problem weighing down Good Grief. Frankly, they come across as caricatures rather than fully-fleshed people. Instead of watching three almost forty-year-old friends have mature conversations about love, loss, and the challenges of adulting, their chats just came off like alcohol-driven teenage rambles. The lacklustre dialogue is surprising, considering Levy’s writing skills.
Everything about the film improves when Sophie and Thomas are removed, and Marc interacts with other people. Good Grief manages to offer something approaching genuine insight during the scenes between Marc and Theo, a stylishly scruffy and soulful Frenchman. Walking together through Paris, the pair pursue that rare thing called honesty.
In a charming French bistro, then later at a Monet gallery, Marc and Theo open up about everything important to them. Marc reveals he agreed to an open marriage because he was more afraid of losing Oliver than being happy. Despite its pathos, this revelation actually undercuts Oliver’s betrayal. Why is Marc so aggrieved by his husband’s affair when he accepted it willingly as status quo?
Just Another Hallmark Movie
From start to end, Good Grief feels like an overcooked yet underbaked mediation on mourning and recovery. It tries to say things about loss and death, life and friendship, betrayal and beginnings. Yet, it ultimately doesn’t manage to say much that’s meaningful. Instead, we’re treated to what feels like a made-for-Lifetime, LGBTQ-friendly, Christmas special with all the usual cliches and stereotypes as trimmings.
Marc may be grieving his zaddy husband, but he does so in bourgeois comfort and class. First, he moons around his swanky and spacious London apartment with red wine, then repeats the process at the equally artsy Paris pied-a-terre. Both cities are ablaze with twinkly Christmas lights, and the Eiffel Tower makes many obligatory appearances.
From Schitt’s Creek, we know Levy can rock sweaters. Marc is definitely channelling David Rose’s obsession with extravagant knits. I also noticed Marc’s impeccable eyewear. Levy once explained he deliberately didn’t wear glasses while playing David Rose, despite being so fond of designer glasses that he founded his own company, DL Eyewear. I wonder if Good Grief is really one big product placement for Levy’s merch?
Despite Good Grief being painfully shallow and meandering, I still feel Dan Levy is a talented writer with plenty more worthwhile stories to offer the world. I’ll continue to have hope for his future projects, even though this first movie is something that’s hard to give a Schitt about.
Follow Us