Parachute, 2024.
Directed by Brittany Snow.
Starring Courtney Eaton, Thomas Mann, Kid Cudi, Francesca Reale, Dave Bautista, Joel McHale, Gina Rodriguez, Kathryn Gallagher, Jennifer Westfeldt, Ekaterina Baker, Chrissie Fit, Owen Thiele, Lukas Gage, Ryan Spahn, Jeremy Kucharek, and Mlé Chester.
SYNOPSIS:
Follows Riley, who has recently been released from rehab after struggling with her addictions to food and body image. She will meet Ethan and finds herself navigating the line between love and a new addiction.
Actor Brittany Snow’s well-intentioned but clunky directorial debut, Parachute (co-written alongside Becca Gleason), stars Courtney Eaton as Riley, recently released from a rehab facility treated for an unspecified eating disorder and body dysmorphia under strict twelve-step recovery plan instructions from her therapist, Dr. Akerman (Gina Rodriguez) not to enter any relationships.
Within about 12 hours, Riley is attached and into something that may as well be a relationship with Thomas Mann’s mild-mannered and supportive Ethan. She explains her situation, and he understands, and they mutually try to resist letting that magnetism turn to intimacy, but they mostly fail. It also doesn’t take a scholar to figure out why the good doctor has a ban on relationships; what if it doesn’t work out and the aftermath is partially responsible for relapse?
Part of the point here is that Riley does brush off useful advice from her therapist and doesn’t properly deal with lingering issues related to her condition still left over from the rehab treatment (there are some authentically bleak scenes of self-doubt, self-pity, and self-hatred, with Riley tearing down and insulting her body in some self-harm adjacent ways), and is a destructive person to watch interact with other characters failing to talk some sense into her.
Among those characters are her longtime friend Casey (Francesca Reale), a smalltime murder mystery showrunner played by Dave Bautista who gives her hostess job while lending a sympathetic and cheerful ear, and some other partners along this narrative who don’t always bring out the best in Riley.
The pull between Courtney Eaton and Thomas Mann feels real, generating enough credibility in their characters for viewers to buy into this attraction that, while there is a tangible connection, they also have something to provide one another, whether or not that’s the healthiest thing to do. Riley’s triggers back into self-loathing and immense disdain for her body (which Ethan, briefly losing his cool in frustration at one point, insists is attractive with nothing to be ashamed of) are all believable, ranging from the pressures of social media comparisons and feeling inferior to future partners of her ex-boyfriend. It’s a reminder that, even for people who complete rehab, the entire world is filled with reminders and tiny bullets that can send someone spiraling once more.
Given that Riley has unlimited funds from a mother disinterested in dealing with her or her pain, there is also the idea planted that perhaps Ethan is the one using Riley for meals and financial stability. His interest in her is sincere, so, as an audience, it’s quick to doubt such a theory, but it is apparent that while he is a good friend, he isn’t actually helping Riley get better mentally. As the film drags on, it is also made clear that Ethan has a fraught relationship with his alcoholic father (Joel McHale), which also plays into his savior motive.
The issue here is that the initially engaging and intensely human dynamic between Riley and Ethan also falls into a waiting game slumber for bad things to happen. Passages of time and flashbacks also carry little weight, with characters mostly acting in ways necessary to service the narrative trajectory. Unfortunately, Brittany Snow also uses that as an opportunity to crank up the melodrama in Parachute in some clichéd, saccharine ways one hopes the film would be wise enough to avoid, choosing to stick to something more grounded in authenticity. Brought to life with moving and committed performances, these are two relatable characters that mostly feel real until the film stagnates, and then they don’t.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
