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‘Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist’

Michael Cera’s subtle performance keeps the movie’s sweetness from becoming cloying.

By Bob Brown
FOR some fans of vintage movies, this title may call to mind The Thin Man series of the 1930s. William Powell and Myrna Loy played Nick and Nora Charles, the tippling detective and his wealthy socialite wife. One of the series’ delights was their snappy repartee. That was back when scripts were written by clever, literate types who could actually summon up wit for their keep.
   Flash forward to today and Hollywood without the studio system (for all its shortcomings). Producers want bankable ideas aimed at a definable audience, preferably one that pays to see movies. And wit is less bankable these days. The demographic for this film, based on Rachel Cohn’s novel of teen angst, is somewhere between ninth and 12th grades. Not that this group doesn’t appreciate wit — if only someone trusted them to recognize it. In a Hollywood teen world, brashness masks insecurity and being without a main squeeze is as empty as being without a cell phone. What are cell phones for anyway?
   In our story, Nick (Michael Cera) is the token straight guy in a gay band, the Jerk Offs (despite the name, they’re really sweet guys in every way). The band — Thom, Dev, and Beefy Guy (Aaron Yoo, Rafi Gavron, and Jonathan Wright) — plays matchmaker for the heartbroken Nick, whose hot girlfriend Tris (Alexis Dziena) has dumped him for a taller, cooler hunk. But Nick can’t get over her, so he keeps sending her custom mixes of his favorite music, complete with elaborate cover art.
   Tris scoffs at his childishness and tosses the CDs in the trash, where her schoolmate, the plainer Norah (Kat Dennings), retrieves them. From the songs on the playlist, Norah recognizes a kindred soul. What a jerk Tris is for dumping him! As it happens, the Jerk Offs are playing a gig in Manhattan that night, and naturally Norah and Tris (with boyfriend in tow) are there. Tris challenges Norah to prove she’s with a guy, and Norah serendipitously picks out Nick during a break. Having no idea who he is, Norah asks him to be her boyfriend just for five minutes, and pulls him into a faux embrace.
   That sets Tris off. Suddenly Nick looks a lot more attractive to her. Besides a tug of war that ensues between the two girls, the evening is spent variously partying in the city, chasing down a hip secret band whose concerts are never announced publicly, and trying to tag after Norah’s drunken classmate Caroline (Ari Graynor), who leaves a traceable trail of telltale vomit in predictable places. All the while, Nick and Norah, who met as strangers, are growing closer, based on their shared musical tastes. There’s something special about Norah, some family connection, that seems to let her breeze to the head of the rope lines at exclusive dance clubs.
   The movie is filled with life lessons: The Jerk Offs celebrate their sexuality in a healthy way and are champions for their straight friend Nick; Norah is inspired by the Jewish concept of Tikkun Olam, the shattered world that must be put back together; Caroline’s drinking gets her in such a jam that she swears she’ll never get drunk again; and guys who use their friends for the connections rather than true kinship lose out; but nice guys who have no ulterior motives except to love good music are the real winners.
   That’s a lot of clichés. It’s mostly what you’d expect in an adult’s etiquette book for teens, but delivered as if we’re watching from the teens’ eye-view. The screenplay, by actress and first-time screenwriter Lorene Scafaria, is sweet but shallow. There is perhaps one clever line in the whole thing, and to give it away would spoil an affecting moment that is a pleasant surprise. Generally the characterizations and the acting match the script, sub-par at best. It’s all too sweet and earnest.
   But what keeps the sweetness from cloying the entire enterprise is Cera’s subtle performance. While all around him are “acting” up a storm, Cera is natural and vulnerable, yet somehow serene. He will come to know what he really deserves — and wants — only gradually. And rather than grabbing at it fiercely, he will draw it to himself by his magnetic appeal. At crucial moments, a smile crosses his lips that can only be compared to the Mona Lisa’s. He’s got a rare quality of seeming not to try, much like a younger Tobey Maguire. Cera’s performance is the one anchor that keeps this film from going off the rails.
   The film is also a sort of valentine to New York, without the self-consciousness of a Woody Allen. The story winds through the little-explored back streets and small clubs in Manhattan, and dips into the attitudes of Englewood-dwelling bridge-and-tunnel people. And, like Almost Famous (2000), the soundtrack is a virtual pop playlist of its own. If you like nothing else about the movie, at least the music is inviting.
Rated PG-13 for mature thematic material including teen drinking, sexuality, language and crude behavior.