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Alison Pill, left, stars in the film Young Werther, a modernization of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther, which the audience learns off the top was a literary sensation in 1774.Route 504/Supplied
- Young Werther
- Directed by José Avelino Gilles Corbett Lourenço
- Written by José Avelino Gilles Corbett Lourenço, based on the novel The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- Starring Douglas Booth, Alison Pill and Patrick J. Adams
- Classification PG; 101 minutes
- Opens in select theatres Jan. 10
The old rule of thumb when it came to reviewing movies that were both filmed and set in Toronto was to bemoan just how highly unusual a circumstance this was – the rare exception to the rule that the city must always double for New York or Chicago. If a film was merely authentically Toronto, it was enough reason for Canadian critics to award it an extra star or two. But over the past decade and a half, Toronto has seized upon the opportunity to play itself on-screen more often than not, whether in productions homegrown or Hollywood. By the time that Pixar came to town with Turning Red, the self-pitying jig was definitely up.
So unfortunately, the new romantic comedy Young Werther doesn’t secure any bonus points straight off the top for explicitly setting itself in the city. But director José Avelino Gilles Corbett Lourenço’s feature debut – a modernization of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s The Sorrows of Young Werther, which we’re told off the top was the literary sensation of 1774! – does stand out from its Toronto-cinema contemporaries in several ways.
Embracing big, juicy colour at every turn, Lourenço’s film imagines the city as a deeply romantic wonderland, forever dappled in the glow of sunshine and sorbet. It is always bright, sunny and deeply vibrant. So much so that it might confuse critics who were expecting a more dour trip north – The New York Times’ own reviewer initially pegged the setting as Manhattan.
Nobody’s perfect, though, and unfortunately neither, ultimately, is Young Werther. While Lourenço has updated Goethe’s epistolary work with a contemporary snap, the film cannot overcome two unfortunate missteps in casting.
As the title character, a carefree young bachelor who, after a meet-cute extraordinaire, finds himself in hopeless love with the soon-to-be-married Charlotte (Alison Pill), British actor Douglas Booth keeps slipping between two modes: vaguely charming and excessively grating. There are several moments in which Lourenço frames Booth’s performance exactly right, allowing audiences to see just what might possess everyone else in the film, including Charlotte’s more-than-decent fiancé Albert (Patrick J. Adams) to find Werther’s company so inviting. But then it is all washed away in a sea of unctuousness, with Booth’s slippery grasp on the character and Lourenço’s sometimes contrived screenplay becoming their own worst enemies.
Booth’s good intentions might not feel so egregious were the actor not paired with an even more annoying match of performance and character courtesy of Jaouhar Ben Ayed, who plays Werther’s best friend-slash-lackey Paul. Every time that Werther and Paul share the screen, often for the purpose of inching the exposition forward, the film feels as if it knows it’s flailing, practically pleading with the audience to stick it out – better things are on the horizon. Which, to the film’s credit, is true.
Long underutilized and certainly undervalued, Canadian actress Pill is a pure delight here as Charlotte, anchoring and then elevating every single scene that she is in. Her character is a tricky one to nail – especially as she grows closer to the frequently frustrating Werther, at the expense of her altogether respectable beau Albert.
Yet Pill ensures that Charlotte never falls into any one of the story’s out-in-the-open traps – nor does the actress’s fellow Canadian Adams, with the Suits veteran providing the charm offensive that Booth is supposed to be armed with. And further in the margins, Iris Apatow (younger daughter of comedy mogul Judd) is so charming as Charlotte’s younger sister that she slams shut the nepo-baby argument before it even begins.
Give all three performers the keys to the city already. Maybe such an honour would also allow the cast to explain Young Werther’s other, more minor sin: its shaky grasp on Toronto geography.
Lourenço might have made the most colourful Toronto movie in ages, but that is no excuse for the director giving tourists the false impression that it is only a quick jaunt to go from Union Station to St. Clair West and back again. Even if it’s for the best gelato in the city.
