

serial dater Karen has her latest boyfriend (Dermot Mulroney) in tow. Also present is Violet's sister Mattie Fae (Margo Martindale), wife of Charlie (Chris Cooper) and mother of shy "Little" Charles (Benedict Cumberbatch), who -- unbeknownst to the rest of the family -- is carrying on an affair with cousin Ivy. It's a secret that, as you might imagine, will cause some major third act tsuris.But there are plenty of other headaches to go around, most of them caused by the characters' sheer, unrelenting nastiness towards each other. More than anything, August seems to be a spoof of one of those warm, inviting down home Southern reunions depicted in pop culture where a multigenerational family shares a few laughs, sheds a few tears and learns a few lessons. There's no such sweetness and sympathy written into Letts's text and I'd be curious to know if the stage production played up the material's inherent satirical element, especially as the various family melodramas spiral into seemingly deliberate absurdity as the narrative goes along. In a major miscalculation, though, Wells (whose background is primarily in TV shows like ER and post-Sorkin The West Wing) appears to have taken the play seriously; either that or his comic timing is seriously out of whack. There's leadenness to the way the action is blocked and the actors are directed that drains much of the humor out of the movie -- even lines that are clearly intended to be funny fail to land. Even worse, as August arrives at its ear-splitting crescendo, the director strains to play the family's final falling-out as tragedy rather than farce. (Though, again, if that's the way the stage version approached it, than the fault lies as much with the song as it does the singer.)Wells's biggest sin, however, is wasting this impressive ensemble who would have benefitted from a strong directorial hand to function as a single unit. (Just imagine what Robert Altman might have done with this cast and this material!) Based on the finished product, their director left them to sink or swim on their own, which is why they all seem to be performing in wildly different keys. While Streep screeches and stomps around the frame, Roberts snarls all of her dialogue, Nicholson disappears into the wallpaper, Lewis recycles her Old School character and McGregor, Cooper, Breslin and Cumberbatch all wander around looking vaguely lost. The only performer who seems interested in actually playing a character as opposed to a heightened personality type is Martindale, whose role unfortunately seems truncated, particularly in the second half when Mattie Fae becomes integral to the big, family-imploding secret. (The film version is an hour shorter than the play and a fair amount does appear to have been jettisoned between stage and screen. Then again, the last thing this movie needed to be was longer.) Clearly calculated to win Oscars, August: Osage County instead feels more worthy of a Razzie or two
