Director: Brian Crano
Writers: Brian Crano
Stars: Rebecca Hall, Dan Stevens, Jason Sudeikis, David Joseph Craig
Synopsis: A woman on the brink of a marriage proposal is told by a friend that she should date other men before spending the rest of her life with her boyfriend.
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Some romantic comedies work better as guilty innocent fun, and should strictly function as such, but
those with a message can be a tricky thing to successfully accomplish, even when that message is
admirable and worth pursuing. This is Brian Crano’s goal with Permission, a film that attempts to dissect our modern view of love, relationships, and marriage, by asking the question on many rational minds; are we okay no longer knowing what else is sexually out there? In marriage, we lock ourselves in with our respective significant other, “till death do you part” as they say; perhaps that should excite you, but Crano urges you to consider its ramifications, a potential emptiness as a result. Crano is asking all the right questions, except for arguably the most important one; “How do I depict these notions successfully, and with consistency?” Perhaps Crano is just inexperienced, but unfortunately his execution is way off, even offensively so.
Permission stars Rebecca Hall and Dan Stevens as a loving couple, Anna and Will. To give you a sense at how “loving” their relationship is, Will (who works in residential construction) is mentally preparing for a marriage proposal, all while building his and Anna’s future home. One night, while out to dinner with their good friends Hale and Reece (themselves a loving couple, with Hale also being Anna’s brother and Reece being Will’s business partner), the two friends challenge Anna and Will on their loving commitment to one another; are they curious as to what else may be out there? This thought provokes Anna and Will to take on the challenge, giving each other the freedom to temporarily open their relationship and sexually explore (a “hall pass” of sorts; and no, not the film of the same name starring Owen Wilson and Jason Sudeikis, though coincidentally Sudeikis also appears in Permission).
And this is all established in the first five to ten minutes.
Such a thin setup is severely felt throughout the film; as Anna and Will sexually venture off, we still
struggle to know who they are outside of just casual sex. As such, the entire film just comes off as most casual sex does; it’s just too superficial. It’s even more unfortunate that Brian Crano has a great juxtaposition to work with, coupling Anna and Will with their friendly couple in Hale and Reece. Hale and Reece are the antitheses to Anna and Will, as two men who want to find ways to bring themselves even closer together by considering adoption and family life, only to push themselves further apart in the process. Crano struggles to perfect this trapeze artist routine, and the balance just feels off; bouncing back and forth from Anna and Will to Hale and Reece actually does the film less good, and instead of creating a dramatic duality between both couples it all just feels too randomized, and not of a piece with the final product. It’s an even bigger shame that the performances, especially Rebecca Hall and Dan Stevens, are actually very good here.
These are all objective flaws, ones you could pick apart in most any film. Where Crano loses all credibility is in his depiction of casual sex, especially from the female point of view. Anna finds herself a new male interest in musician Dane (Francois Arnaud), while Will simultaneously pursues an older Lydia (Gina Gershon). It would be one thing to sense a genuine connection forming between these respective new “couples”, but we only get that between Anna and Dane, who genuinely work for each other’s affection (for the most part, until Anna blatantly comes out and tells Dane, “I was just using you for sex.”). Will, on the other hand, is practically stalked by Lydia, leading him on to not only a sexual escapade, but a drug-fueled date of ecstasy and a sharing of deepest secrets; it’s supposed to be a funny sequence, but it’s just crass. Is sex really this easy? Or, as the movie inadvertently implies, do women make it that easy? In Permission, the women approach and ask for it, and the men keel over to it. Not only does that approach fail in providing a dual frame of reference between man and woman (something a movie like this actually needs), but it implies there’s less genuineness on our loving minds, and I would argue it’s unintentionally sexist and mean-spirited.
This leads to a “devastating” climax, and I use quotes because that is Crano’s intended goal. The truth
is, the ending does not work at all, when in fact it actually diminishes the film’s initial intentions. There was something to be said for a couple to grant themselves the ruthless freedom they did, only to find themselves drawn even closer together because of it; this would have been the more devastating and sinister route, but Crano doesn’t trust his intentions. Instead, he vouches for the easy way out, the one that feels more saddening on the surface, when in fact it just feels too safe. This is a perfect embodiment to what Permission as a whole feels like, and ironically similar to failed relationships, it’s just one big missed opportunity. Crano rightfully understands that relationships are not easy, but his film unfortunately is.
Overall Grade: D+
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Hear our podcast review on Extra Film:
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