Meanwhile, as Will and Anna’s drama plays out, her brother, Hale (David Joseph Craig) and his boyfriend, Reece (Morgan Spector), another seemingly “perfect” couple, disagree about whether or not to adopt a child. Hale was the one who planted the idea of sleeping with other people in Will and Anna’s heads, so you could call it karmically justified that he should find himself in another kind of difficult predicament.
The dialog is mostly snappy, which is good because a lot of the plot plays out with conversations in upscale restaurants and bars, which are just about the only places where hip urban sophisticates hang out, apparently.
“…that’s growth, but it looks more like desperation.”
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention one small but nevertheless irritating point, which is François Arnaud’s emo caterwauling as he accompanies himself on the piano at his ultra-hip pad. It’s hokey and serves no purpose other than to make us cringe.
As for Permission’s overall theme, we learn that the film is about “growing” and “growing up.” Near the end, two of the characters announce that they’ve “grown” and “grown up.” And it’s probably a good thing that they do because it’s not clear where this “growth” came from. The two characters are at the end of his and her respective ropes, and without giving too much away, they lunge in unexpected directions. Maybe that’s growth, but it looks more like desperation.
Permission (2017) Directed by Brian Crano, written by Brian Crano, starring Rebecca Hall, Dan Stevens, Jason Sudeikis, Gina Gershon, François Arnaud, David Joseph Craig, Morgan Spector.
4 out of 10
