Bening’s character, Nic, is strong and driven: as a doctor, she is the bread-earner of the family. Moore plays Jules, who dabbles in various jobs without being overly concerned about success in any of them. They have two teenage kids, Joni and Laser: both Nic and Jules gave birth to one child, using the same sperm donor, Paul. The film’s drama centres around Paul, who comes into the family’s life after 18 years of anonymity.

Throughout the film Bening was more compelling and likeable in her role. Although Nic could be a little too stern, her softer side was equally on show: she was clearly shaken by the changes taking place in her family. Moore’s character, although endearing to a degree, was irritating to about an equal degree, so it may have been this characteristic that grated with me at the beginning. The film extends the contrast between Nic and Jules to gently mock the type of laid-back Californian devoted to local, organic produce, composting and the latest health craze at Whole Foods.

Aside from Bening’s acting, the film’s real joy is its script, which is stimulating for its sheer originality: it is like Juno in that way, but a bit less quirky. Instead of focusing on counter-culture characters and placing its sympathy entirely with them, the film features a range of characters and highlights the idiosyncrasies, obsessions and sensitivities of all. Although the dialogue is believable, there is a perpetual supply of lines that surprise and entertain. There are parts that you can’t quite believe have made it into a mainstream film: The Kids Are All Right casually incorporates them into its narrative, which manages to retain a Hollywood feel even though it is so fresh and different. This film is truly one of the highlights of the festival, and will definitely make it into my top five in the forthcoming wrap-up review.

Deadline reports that director Jason Reitman, screenwriter Diablo Cody, Mandate Pictures and the production company Mr. Mudd will reteam for the Charlize Theron-starring flick that follows a young adult novel ghost writer who plots to reclaim her identity.

Cody, along with Mason Novick, Lianne Halfon and Russell Smith of John Malkovich’s Mr. Mudd banner will produce, while Nathan Kahane and Malkovich of Mandate are exec producers.

Plans are to begin production in New York on November 10.

Cody won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar writing “Juno” and Reitman was nominated for directing.

Bingham takes pride in his work.  Nobody wants to be the bearer of bad news, but it must be done.  He feels he’s providing a social service.  He has no relationships, no mortgage, no nagging commitments, and even holds Tony Robbins-style self-help seminars where he explains how to unload the backpack of life.  Here is a man who has found a way around all those tiresome birthday parties, anniversaries, heartaches and losses.  He is life’s free agent, that is, until two women (Anna Kendrick, Vera Farmiga) come into his life and disrupt his carefully constructed world of personal pleasure and human detachment.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with “Up in the Air.”  In fact, it can be pretty darn good at times.  It’s brimming with slick direction, clever dialogue, timely social commentary and great performances.  Everything about it screams, “I was made by professionals!”  It is a polished, neatly packaged product ripe for mainstream consumption.  And that’s exactly the problem.  Everything it does, it does very well, but it doesn’t do all that much worth writing about.  It’s one of those middlebrow adult dramas that’s really more glib than witty, and leaves audiences with the feeling that they’ve just watched something sophisticated, even though they haven’t.  It takes no chances, makes no interesting statements and has no definable style.

Jason Reitman, hailed by some as an emerging wunderkind, is rapidly ascending the ranks of high-profile Hollywood director-hood in the same way young talents like Spike Jonze (“Being John Malkovich”) and Sofia Coppola (“Lost in Translation”) have in recent years.  His first feature, “Thank You for Smoking,” was a serviceable tobacco industry satire that garnered considerable critical praise and even developed a small cult following.  Its successor, the pseudo-hip teenage pregnancy dramedy, “Juno,” was the surprise hit of 2008, taking both the box office and the critical world by storm, even landing Reitman an Oscar nod for Best Director.  “Up in the Air,” his third feature film, represents a newly powerful director with creative control, heavy studio backing, a substantial budget and big stars.

It’s a common Hollywood tale.  This is the point where Reitman either caves under the pressure and is forever banished to slogging through the independent film world begging for private financing, or excels and solidifies his stature as a big-time Hollywood player free to make anything he wants.  Well, considering that “Up in the Air” has already doubled its production budget in theatrical earnings and stirred up quite a bit of Oscar buzz, it looks like Reitman has just joined Hollywood’s playboy club.  He definitely doesn’t cave under the pressure, but he certainly doesn’t excel either.

Score: 3.5/5

The objectified star of a million adolescent fantasies, Megan Fox has ascended the misogyny-fostering ranks of Hollywood’s considerable plastic actress sector faster than you can say “botox.” Funny thing is, she’s managed to become Tinseltown’s most sought after leading lady without ever being required to act.  Director Karyn Kusama, best known for 2000′s “Girlfight,” aims to remedy that with “Juno” writer, Diablo Cody’s second hipster-tinged screenplay, “Jennifer’s Body.”  Fox indeed acts in this unholy witch’s cauldron concoction of comedy, high school drama, teen angst, sarcasm, and graphic, bloody violence, and the result isn’t as disastrous as expected, at least in her case.

The idolized sexpot stars as the titular Jennifer, a gorgeous, superficial, status-obsessed teenager, and primary perpetrator of said violence,  who falls victim to a botched Satanic ritual that imbues her with supernatural abilities and a demonic hunger for the flesh of teenage boys.  Quite a departure for Sam Witwicky’s pouty main squeeze in Michael Bay’s “Transformers” flicks.

Unlike other high school drama queen femme fatales, however, Jennifer doesn’t surround herself with a gaggle of clucking know-nothings fixated on their own imagined superiority.  Instead, she does something even more ego-maniacal.  She only hangs around one other girl, the degradingly dubbed Needy, a mentally sharp but plain-looking social klutz, ably played by Amanda Seyfried.  Why?  Because she looks better by comparison.  They’re history as childhood BFF’s really has little to do with it.  Jennifer’s narcissism knows no bounds, although, with such a delicate ego, it seems she is the one more deserving of the moniker, Needy.  Maybe that was Cody’s intention, to accentuate the dizzying game of projected identities that consumes early adulthood.  Or, perhaps I’m giving Cody too much credit. It’s hard to tell because Cody’s script, while steeped in clever sounding dialogue, leaves much to be desired as far as subtlety and subtext.

I suppose there’s an argument to be made that looking for a fully realized, multi-layered narrative in a tongue-in-cheek high school horror comedy is foolish.  But, when a film doesn’t work on its most basic terms, it’s only natural to assess whether that means failure, or whether it’s an intentional result that reveals some sort of duplicity of construction.  In this case, all signs point to the former.

“Jennifer’s Body” isn’t a bad movie, but it’s not a good one either.  Lines that should be funny, aren’t, and those that shouldn’t be, are.  The same is true of the myriad horror elements.  And after the climax strikes, like a tipping point of unintentional hilarity, things get downright laughable.

Cody does take some calculated shots at poseur musicians, embodied by a simultaneously magnetic and detestable Adam Brody who plays Nikolai, the vain indie rocker responsible for Jennifer’s demonic possession, and the overall absurdity of popularity that hit their mark, but sadly, “Jennifer’s Body” never capitalizes on its own novelty.  It’s biggest success is merely confirming Needy’s assertion that, “Hell is a teenage girl.”  And who needs a movie to figure that out?

Score: 2.5/5