Youth in Revolt

The idea of the glum Michael Cera—once described as a teen Bob Newhart—being in any way suave or swashbuckling is a fairly ripe source of comedy. Youth in Revolt takes that idea and runs with it. And just before the concept overstays its welcome, the film ends.

Cera plays Nick Twisp, basically the same character he always plays—a sensitive, miserable, too-smart-for-his-own-good nice boy pining away for a girl. In this case, the girl, Sheeni (Portia Doubleday), has a thing for French New Wave films and French singers, so he creates an alter ego named Francois to woo her. Francois has an oh-so-French mustache and wears tight pants and smokes cigarettes. He also seems to have no regard for public property or polite society. At one point, after the Francois half of his persona tells Sheeni all the different dirty ways he'd like to ravage her, Nick steps in and shyly says, "If that's okay with you."

That's one of the things that's novel about Youth in Revolt: It's pretty frank about sex. (It's kind of like American Pie for honor students.)

And, as is often the case with movies like this, the adults are played broadly. Jean Smart is Nick's over-sexed, needy mother, grubby Zach Galifianakis is the first of her two low-life boyfriends. (He even wears that notorious emblem of cheese: the "Three Wolf Moon" decal shirt). Ray Liotta, as a secretly sadistic cop, plays the other.

The film has some quirky animated interludes that suggest it's aiming for indie cult status—it wants to be the next Juno orNapoleon Dynamite. It doesn't quite make it. Funny as it is, the film still feels a little enervated. (The film's direction, by newcomer Miguel Arteta, is as deadpan as its young lead.) Michael Cera's sad sack routine needs someone lively to bounce off of. But in Youth in Revolt, he only bounces off himself.