Comedy has a fine line to walk between being honest and being clichéd. Clichés can arise simply because they are so often occurring and easily observable — but that doesn’t detract from the feeling of lazily retreading well-worn material. The romantic comedy is most prone to this tightrope act, as many a good film has fallen prey to tired formulas that are comforting to some and infuriating to others. The most aggravating aspect of Stuart Acher’s #Stuck is that it has an interesting premise and dips its toes into truly original moments that delight audiences, before carefully retreating into the safe confines of the predictable and the bland.
Guy (Joel David Moore) and Holly (Madeline Zima) meet at a bar and hookup for what is clearly meant to be a one-night stand. Unfortunately, Holly left her car back at the bar and needs Guy to drive her back. They soon find themselves stuck in the worst traffic jam Los Angeles has ever seen (hence the title, and no, they never once explain the hashtag). A relationship meant to have a shelf life of a couple of drunken hours one night now extends into torturous time spent getting to know the person in a sense other than the biblical.
Both Moore and Zima have great presence and bring a lot to their characters, making them relatable and likable. There are moments in the film when their engaging banter feels true. Unfortunately, there are more moments in which the script fails them and their abilities simply can’t rescue the quagmire of rehashed tropes in which they find themselves. Holly is that button-down type who never just goes home with a guy, but she decides to “act as if” one night and give in to her impulses. Guy doesn’t date, preferring the ease and emotional safety that comes from the simple detachment of meaningless sex. They’re the original odd couple! Okay, they’re not that different; they are both intelligent, articulate people who have been burned in the past and are hesitant to be emotionally honest, albeit for different reasons. Rather than spend the entire 83 minute running time with the pair in the car, writer/director Stuart Acher retraces their night, going backwards from copulation to their first meeting in the bar. This breaks up the possible monotony of being stuck in such a claustrophobic setting for the whole film while adding some depth and insight into each character’s motivation for their actions. Unfortunately, the depth is only ankle deep and the reveals are basically what the audience expected from the outset.
Acher also gives viewers respite from his main characters by occasionally focusing on the other passengers stuck in the gridlock for one to two minutes at a time. These asides are completely unnecessary, leading to nothing and developing no other characters or even comic relief. More unnecessary are the constant inserts of the CGI-ed long traffic jam as if the filmmaker thinks audiences will be incredulous that the traffic could be that bad. It’s a pretty simple concept, and Acher should have more faith in his audience’s willingness to buy into it.
Instead of shifting focus as some form of tension reliever, Acher should have spent more time with his two leads. Since it is unlikely the pair will ever see each other again, Holly and Guy decide they can be as honest with each other as possible. This should open up a whole world of interesting reveals and emotional beats that both actors are more than capable of producing. Instead there are some funny bits about Guy’s “O-face” and then some clichéd and reductive discussions on serial monogamists. It’s not as if this film has to turn into one of the Before Sunrise films with ponderous diatribes about art, life, and death — but it would’ve been nice to give the characters more depth and their conversation more unique flair. It certainly would’ve been better to evoke those films rather than just the car ride from When Harry Met Sally stretched out to feature length.
The films that are the hardest to write about, for me, are the ones that are just okay. They aren’t aggressively insulting, ridiculously convoluted, or ineptly made, or any other possible offense that could drum up some stronger negative reaction. Nor are they the films that you can’t wait to tell everyone about, annoy your friends by recommending them, and anxious to revisit just to spend a bit more time in that world. Instead, middling movies are difficult because they aren’t egregious sins against cinema, but they certainly don’t elevate the medium either. Ultimately, #Stuck is nothing more than a fine movie. Its too few attempts at being original married with its reluctance to be bold or raw make it a pretty tepid experience. Acher’s film is raised up only by the occasional moment that rings surprisingly true about relationships, the few bits of banter that are funny (though short lived), and the charm of its talented stars. While the plot concerns a torturous experience that turns into a pleasant surprise, #Stuck never reaches the lows or heights of such a roller coaster ride. It becomes a metaphor for itself by sticking to the middle of the road and never truly moving forward.
