Each of us deals with death differently. It is a chaotic process that rarely follows a linear path to recovery. Instead, it is a brutal tangle of conflicting emotions that fluctuate in intensity. You never recover from grief. But the processing, to quote BoJack Horseman“gets easier. Every day it gets a little easier.” Given that we all inevitably have to deal with this experience, I hope, dear reader, that your descent into coping with loss is more bearable than watching The good half. This Robert Schwartzman directorial effort longs for depth in its treatment of this weighty subject. Instead, it’s a miscalculated endeavor. We finally know what would happen if Ryan Reynolds hosted a Zach Braff indie film written by Joss Whedon.

28-year-old Renn Wheeland (Nick Jonas) reluctantly returns to Cleveland, Ohio after his mother Lily (Elisabeth Shue) dies. Renn, a failed writer, hates his hometown almost as much as he loathes his life. When he arrives there, he brings sarcasm and detachment to the hectic lives of his father Darren (Matt Walsh) and sister Leigh (Brittany Snow). The latter character in particular has no time for Renn’s nonsense. She’s so busy trying to organize her mother’s funeral.

As he completes tasks like picking out a coffin and collecting precious mementos from his childhood home, the past keeps coming back to haunt Renn. Visions of that time, light-hearted memories of his bond with Lily, intrude on his life. On the outside, Renn downplays everything with jokes and an “I don’t care” attitude. But these flashbacks make it clear that Renn is just as distraught over the past as anyone else.

In Brett Ryland’s script, Renn expresses his disbelief that his mother is to be buried in a cemetery. Renn claims that Lily wants to be cremated, because who wants to be buried in Cleveland? His disdain for that city immediately brings back memories of one of the The last black man in San Francisco Most memorable lines: “You can’t hate it unless you love it.” The good half has perfectly understood the first part of this equation. But what about the peculiarities of this city? What is the basis of Renn’s hatred? What peculiar characteristics define Cleveland?

Schwartzman and Ryland never give the audience a sense of personality The good half version of Cleveland. This film could be set in any American city. Renn’s constant whining about how much he hates Cleveland makes the lack of identity in the backgrounds of this film clear. A similarly generic quality permeates the film’s dialogue. This is especially true of Renn and Zoey’s (Alexandra Shipp) “witty” quips. The pair speak almost exclusively in sarcastic references to pop culture. Beyond that, there are minimal differences in their individual diction. When the turn of The good half If Zoey had been a product of Renn’s Tyler Durden-style imagination, the fact that they had the same way of speaking would at least have made sense!

Unfortunately, there is no such twist to explain this screenwriting shortcoming. Ryland’s script instead has people speak in interchangeable ways. To rub salt into the audience’s wounds, Renn delivers truly atrocious witticisms like, “I’ll stay here in sad town.” The good half desperately needs to take on a more chaotic and realistic tone. Instead, these half-hearted quips embody Schwartzman’s mechanical and predictable approach to the story. Even moments of open vulnerability, like Lee sobbing in front of a closet, feel calculated. There’s too much precision and polish here for a film that deals with the full harshness of loss.

This even applies to the miscasting of Nick Jonas as Renn. Jonas is best known as a pop star and has also performed as a comedian in works such as “Jumanji” films. He also has experience as a Broadway actor. It’s not inconceivable that he could pull off a dramatic indie role. However, Jonas is always a bit too handsome and composed to portray Renn as a failed writer who uses sarcasm to hide his inner chaos. He fails to portray an everyman spirit in his performance. To make matters worse, Ryland’s didactic dialogue misses Renn’s most intimate moments. We’ll never know if Nick Jonas could pull off a calm portrayal of grief. Finally, The good half can’t stop giving him clumsy lines expressing Renn’s feelings.

Such missed opportunities abound in the production, including in the character of stepfather Rick Barona (David Arquette). This character ultimately turns out to be the real “villain” of the piece, a shockingly bad idea for a grounded drama. Painting things in such a black-and-white morality crystallizes The good half simplistic approach to the world. Barona is not a fully fleshed-out human being. He is just a plot device that provides enough villainy to unite our three main characters in the final act of the script. How can the audience connect with these characters if they are not considered characters in the script?

The only facet of The good half What really stands out is Christopher Donion’s editing. Renn’s flashbacks to his interactions with his mother tend to be intertwined with the present. Someone saying “Run!” in the past leads directly to someone shouting the same phrase in the present. Donion does a great job of precisely timing these cuts between different time periods, providing a rarely subtle portrayal of the protagonist’s problems. Renn doesn’t want to talk about his pain or say out loud that his mother is gone. However, Donion’s editing provides a clear intersection between past and present that illustrates him running from the inevitable. These parts of existence will collide no matter how hard Renn fights.

The good half The visuals are otherwise entirely generic, aside from amusing wide-angle shots that capture the chaotic interior of Father Dan’s (Steve Park) office. Without any fascinating imagery or lastingly meaningful characters to remember, Robert Schwartzman’s filmmaking flickers out of memory the moment The good half The complexity of grieving the loss of a loved one has been the basis of many great films. The good half is one of the weaker entries in this film canon. If you want to experience truly outstanding Nick Jonas art, just rock out to the Jonas Brothers’ cover of “Year 3000.”