IF
PARAMOUNTIt’s been a while since audiences have been treated to a whimsical, live-action, family-friendly movie, and, to be perfectly honest, John Krasinski felt like the perfect filmmaker to bring back the glory days of highly imaginative kiddie adventures to life through IF. As much as audiences wanted him to direct A Quiet Place: Day One (though Michael Sarnoski is a highly inspired choice), having him flex his directorial muscles beyond horror and do something completely unexpected is what any filmmaker should aspire to (like George Miller following up his unwatchable Happy Feet movies with Mad Max: Fury Road).
However, it doesn’t take long for IF to showcase its influences and uninspired plotting, with an opening montage ripping off Up’s most emotionally devastating sequence, as the audience meets Bea (Cailey Fleming). She is grappling with the loss of her mother (after the montage showed us that she died of cancer), and may become parent-less should her father’s (of course, John Krasinski would play someone in his movies) heart surgery doesn’t go well. She’s not ready to say goodbye and has difficulty communicating her feelings with her grandmother (Fiona Shaw, always excellent).
One night, Bea sees a shadowy figure following her, looking like it doesn’t belong in this world. She follows it and meets Calvin (Ryan Reynolds), a man who works with Imaginary Friends, also known as IFs, to match them with children before they grow up. Wanting to distract herself from the gloomy reality that may face her, Bea asks Calvin if she, too, can help imaginary friends like Blue (Steve Carell), Blossom (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), Spaceman (George Clooney), Ice (Bradley Cooper) and an anthropomorphized marshmallow (also voiced by Krasinski) among others, find the right child for them.
The conceit is fine, but Krasinski’s execution is incredibly poor. Apart from an inspiring dance sequence oddly structured and scored to the sounds of Tina Turner’s “Better Be Good to Me,” there’s not much imagination that will strike the eyes of children – or adults, for that matter, despite the sumptuous images cinematographer Janusz Kaminski brings to life here. It’s almost miraculous that, in an era where image-making is at an all-time low in Hollywood, Kaminski makes every frame of IF feel textured and stunningly imaginative. The aforementioned Tina Turner scene is a great example of this, with the camera following Reynolds as he navigates into an ever-malleable world as the IFs take control of his mind.
However, the most technically impressive sequence is far more subtle, occurring when Bea wants to reunite the grown adults with their original and respective IFs. One such scene sees Bea’s grandmother remind herself of her time as a ballerina, and slowly dance to one of her records, making her remember the time she had with Blossom.
The use of light and shadows adds lots of dramatic complexity to Shaw’s portrayal, coupled with another emotional (but repetitive) score from Michael Giacchino, who continues to showcase how his best compositions have always been for family-driven pictures. Perhaps it’s too inspired by Up, but some of the motifs established here are fun to listen to. Reynolds is also surprisingly good here, giving up his annoying Deadpool/Aviation Gin schtick in favor of a more heartfelt and engaging performance, despite his character being thinly written and a third-act twist so predictable it almost feels egregious by the time it gets revealed.
In fact, none of the performances here are particularly bad, but it’s the fact that the actors have virtually nothing of interest to do that almost sinks the whole thing. Fleming shows promise but goes through too many predictable beats for us to care about her on a cellular level (while Minari’s Alan Kim is pitifully wasted on a series of hospital scenes that never click and feel terribly unnatural). At the same time, Krasinski tries to play the dad who sugarcoats her child on the grim nature of life but fails miserably at drawing any form of compassion.
Rather, the only character that the audience seems to get at a far deeper level than Bea or Calvin is Lewis (voiced by the late Louis Gossett Jr., to which the film is dedicated in a moving post-credits tribute), the wise teddy bear who supervises a facility of IFs left behind by their children as they grew up. In those moments, the film is at its most emotional, not only through Gossett’s sotto voce portrayal of the character, which gives it far more elaborate baggage. However, Krasinski genuinely seems to care about this IF more important than others.
The other imaginary friends look great (the film’s visual effects are far more impressive) but aren’t as developed or as interesting as Krasinski thinks they are, regardless of who (and it’s a surprisingly star-studded supporting cast) is playing them. Some of the characters are funny (such as a detective voiced by Christopher Meloni). Still, most of them fall completely flat with limited vocal performances and screen time (Brad Pitt being credited as a voiceless, invisible imaginary character is pretty funny, though, referencing his turn as The Vanisher in Deadpool 2).
As a result, the audience doesn’t have much knowledge of the world of IFs and how they operate within the prism of a child’s imagination. There seem to be lots of exposition dumps Calvin gives to Bea, but they seem inconsequential in the picture's grand scheme. The movie then showcases many situations in which Bea tries to match children with IFs until its ending haphazardly tries to tug in the heartstrings, but none works. Most of the emotional beats don’t land – apart from an ending montage where adults remember their times with imaginary friends – and the overall message on loneliness and grief is left muddled.
An imaginary friend is something all lonely kids ultimately make up. As someone who’s suffered from this in his life, this film should’ve discussed the imagination one can have with a make-believe friend as they learn to become more confident in themselves through themselves. But Krasinski is seemingly not interested in that and would rather focus his picture more on grief processing than balancing this arc out with something far more emotionally enveloping for both small kids who might be currently hanging out with their imaginary friends and older kids who’ll remember the time they had with their fabrications. But if it never knows what it wants to say or showcase, it ultimately lethargically arrives at its dreary conclusion with no concrete message or story to convey beyond “imaginary friends good.” Of course, they are. Their fabricated existence in a child's mind provides them with a safe form of catharsis and affection. But what makes imaginary friends good? Krasinski doesn’t seem to have the answer.