Wine Country Review – Amy Poehler's Netflix Comedy Is A Drunk Riot Movie

BThe Saturday Night Live show, which is becoming less well-known, has become almost as important an institution as watching Saturday Night Live, whose current season is so punishable that it's often hard to remember time when it was not the case. Recalls are usually integrated elsewhere with ex-screenwriters and cast members reliably appearing on big and small screens to show how much the show has been fertile for comedy over the past 45 years. It's hard not to watch Wine Country in Netflix comedy without thinking of what brought together its seven main stars and two main screenwriters, the film being a showcase of their combined talents and evidence of SNL's lasting influence. .

Inspired by a 2016 getaway, the film follows a group of friends getting together to celebrate a birthday in Napa Valley, California. This is what the control monster Abby (Amy Poehler) planned, whose detailed route of the weekend does not leave much room for maneuver, which creates a tension among the group. But they are all eager to avoid problems and, in turn, play up to a misogynistic cliche of women arguing. It's easier said than done, however, with Naomi (Maya Rudolph) keeping a secret, Catherine (Ana Gasteyer) struggling to get away from work, Val (Paula Pell) obsessed with a waitress for which she fell, Jenny (Emily Spivey) trying to keep her anxieties at a distance and Rebecca (Rachel Dratch), her daughter who is celebrating her birthday, refuses to accept the implications of her fiftieth birthday.

There is not a lot of intrigue at play at Wine Country, which is both a good and a bad thing, depending on the scene. When we are trusted to hang out with women while they drink and cheat each other, it's great. There is a chemistry between the group that is engaging and difficult to simulate, and although the scenes often have a naturalistic tone, there is a refreshing lack of indulgence, which can afflict comedies peopled with friends in real life. He is cowardly, but disciplined, avoiding these improvised Apatowian scenes that, at worst, may seem boring.

It's virtually impossible not to take advantage of these scenes, whether it's Pell that offers custom-made vibrators to the group, Spivey enumerating his basic rules for a playlist ("I do not want any Quentin Tarantino soundtracks." I have finished ") or Rudolph, one of the awesome fake drunkards, Prince afflicted in a hot bath. Unlike other post-bridesmaids comedies about a group of women letting go, there is also a refusal to play in some repetitive tropes. Although alcohol abuse is very important, it does not lead to an escalation of noisy moments ready for a trailer. Women are self-confessed nerds and in one scene, which gave the impression of directly commenting what we might expect, Gasteyer suggests that they are all microdoses in MDMA, an idea that falls flat with a refrain of disinterest.

We assume that the conflict will happen, and it happens, although there is a well-observed accumulation, with a series of clear scenes in which the two women casually criticize themselves and a clever scenario, of Spivey and Liz Cackowski (who book a funny movie). Cameo as an expert in pretentious wine) who refrains from offering us a clear antagonist, every woman a credible balance. When the screenplay tries to force a more conventional narrative, crunches can be heard, especially in a disappointing physical comedy sequence towards the end. Star-shaped cameos are kept to a minimum. While Cherry Jones's dark-minded tarot card reader is a hysterically amusing inclusion, Jason Schwartzman's obsessed paella chef has far less success, succeeding in sucking comedy on screen . Tina Fey's grim local is somewhere in between, sometimes feeling poorly broadcast and sometimes confusing, which makes you want her to have more time on the screen.

In fact, more time on the screen would not be a bad thing, the group proving how much an addictive company that a limited series could have been more welcome, providing us with even more freewheeling soaked with wine that works so well. Poehler, sitting for the first time in the director's chair, is a functional filmmaker who realizes that his film does not need a lot of visual flourishes to steal. Rudolph is a star, she has the right to be part of the fun in a way that she was not in a bridesmaid, while Pell and Spivey, both of whom are mostly known for their writings, are amazing aces in the hole. In another commercially smaller film, they might have been forced by producers wanting bigger names, but as in many Netflix originals, Wine Country has something unfiltered and abstract. For example, there is no romantic sub-intrigue imposed by Apatow and it's like being in a film about women created by women.

The very fact that Wine Country is about a group of women approaching or surviving in their fifties makes it extremely unusual. The post-bridesmaid improvement in movies about female friendship has been light and since then, movies have often focused on younger women (see: Rough Night, Someone Great and Ibiza ) or older caricatures (see: Book Club and the next Poms). In the film, aging is a comfortable gesture that goes a little further than jokes about menopause, each character becoming more aware of its mortality.

Wine Country is disjointed and sometimes misjudged, but it's also very funny with a cast of women whose collective charm makes unforgettable moments more unequal. Watching it with wine helps too.