I‘ve recently developed a heightened level of skepticism when it comes to feature films, especially ones that get a bunch of Oscar buzz (whether or not they actually win). But I figured… meh… they filmed part of Up in the Air at the Smith Terminal of Detroit Metro Airport (like, for example, on the film poster above) — so I should support the whole “bring-Hollywood-money-to-Michigan” project that may or may not get canned soon due to ongoing state budget issues.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, since around 2008 filmmakers have been given a huge tax break for filming in Michigan. The idea was to create jobs here and, probably, to bring some positive light to the state that has been a national joke for about three decades now. Sadly the program hasn’t accomplished either — partly because they don’t require that the movies take place in Michigan.

Up in the Air was unique in that they actually did announce when they were visiting Detroit, unlike, say, Whip It, which was filmed all over Southeast Michigan but was set in Austin, TX. Go figure.

I was pleasantly surprised that director Jason Reitman approached certain cliché film topics from new angles — or at least, in ways that didn’t meet my expectations at all. The movie was pitched the same as The Family Man, that Nicolas Cage film from about ten years ago where a rich, unmarried businessman is given a “glimpse” of what his life would have been like if he and his college girlfriend had stayed together.

At the time, I very much enjoyed Family Man — I can’t deny that. But I also had a much narrower view of life (duh…I was 18). I was more susceptible to brainwash propaganda designed to manipulate the part of us that craves comfort, order, security — the domestic package. What lies beyond that has been so hidden from our collective consciousness that most people don’t even know it exists.

Ryan feels an urge to have something more profound in his life, while his longtime priority was to become the seventh person ever — and also the youngest — to reach 10 million miles in the frequent flier club.

So I went into Up in the Air thinking it would tell the story of a guy who enjoyed his life of no attachments, a life that was perhaps shallow, but also invigorating, challenging and maybe in some ways rewarding. After seeing in the trailer that George Clooney’s character, Ryan Bingham, gets “grounded” from his regular travel schedule, I figured he must then learn the value of “settling down” and “opening up his heart.” I have to say I’m very glad that none of these stereotypes can be used to describe the film at all.

Bingham isn’t so much a cold and greedy businessman (otherwise this would have crossed into Pretty Woman territory) as he is a guy who doesn’t want to sit still long enough to be alone with himself. He says he spent something like 320 days traveling in the past year, and “40 miserable days at home” (i.e., his barren one bedroom apartment). He travels for his job at a company that specializes in everyone’s favorite type of consulting: firing people so that the actual bosses don’t have to live with a dirty conscience. (I couldn’t help but think of Bob and Bob in Office Space, the ones who asked, “What’s your favorite Michael Bolton song?”).

College grad Natalie Keener — played impressively by Anna Kendrick, who frightened my inner teenage boy in the 2007 high school debate flick Rocket Science — arrives at the company and suggests that they start firing people by video chat to save time and money. This threatens Bingham’s whole lifestyle, but he also has serious concerns over the increased harm this new method would inflict on the people being laid off. So Bingham takes Keener on the road to show her why video chat is a bad idea.

Just typing this I keep getting images of bad movie clichés popping into my head — especially those buddy cop movies where the older one has to “show the new guy the ropes.” Or the ones where the guy can’t get the emotionally unavailable girl, who’s obviously afraid to be vulnerable, to admit she has feelings for him (you’ll have to see the film to understand that one). Yet somehow Reitman avoids anything of the sort. The film ends up leaning on some highly unexpected plot twists that leave the viewer with an unsettled feeling. That doesn’t mean I was upset — I was just caught off guard by the depth this film actually possessed.

In fact the overwhelming feeling it left me with was the desire to see a sequel produced. As the poster says, “This is the story of a man ready to make a connection.” But (I think I can say this without giving away too much) by the time the credits appear, Bingham hasn’t gotten much farther than that — knowing, without a doubt, that he wants a real connection (it’s hinted at in the title too: Up in the Air).

He feels an urge to have something more profound in his life, while his longtime priority was to become the seventh person ever — and also the youngest — to reach 10 million miles in the frequent flier club (even though, as Bingham argues, more people have walked on the moon. By the way, in one discussion about that goal of his, they actually bring up my theory about man’s inferiority complex, and how it stems from the inability to create offspring. They passed it off as if it was common knowledge. Maybe it’s common knowledge to people who have learned something about psychology. But I’m not so sure.)

I will say that where Bingham ends up is not totally his doing. But I’d still like to know where he goes from here, and even more of where he came from. He’s been estranged from his two sisters, even though he lives in Omaha and they live in Wisconsin (yeah, I forgot… he’s traveling constantly). It appears that both of his parents are deceased and that he’s never had a serious romantic prospect. He gives motivational speeches about how it’s better to keep your baggage lean because “moving is living.” Though he clearly enjoys a trip home for his sister’s wedding, when he gets to catch up with his family and visit his high school.

So how did he end up with that crappy apartment, running around in “headless chicken” mode all the time? And what will he do now that he’s realized it may be worthwhile to slow down, or if keeps moving, to synchronize his movement with a partner — a “copilot,” as his new brother-in-law calls it.

One character points out that Bingham doesn’t know what he wants. But he’s made himself vulnerable for maybe the first time in his life, and he seems convinced that there could be some value in that. I’m not sure what mass audiences will take from the film, or if it will serve as a mirror for their own actions and decisions. I personally wonder if rooting for him to settle down means submitting to the brainwash factor.

At the very least, Bingham has learned more about himself in the movie’s time frame than he probably did over the last 10 or 15 years. He’s been forced to evaluate his own life philosophy (or lack therof) — inspired to figure out how he could have lived so long with so few meaningful guiding principles. Maybe that lesson, more than any that brush too closely to movie clichés, is the one that will stick with him.

Similar Posts:

• The Science of Disasterology by Nick Meador
• The Self-Directed Initiation of a Writer by Nick Meador
• The Light That Never Goes Out by Nick Meador
• Indecision Over Michigan by Nick Meador
• Medical Marijuana as a Force for Individual Responsibility by Nick Meador