Review: 'Nobody Walks', starring Olivia Thirlby and John Krasinski

Take an episode of HBO's Girls, strip it of all humor, insight, and fascinating(if slightly irritating) characters and what you'll get is Nobody Walks.  The film's rambling, superficial approach is made all the more striking by the presence of Girls creator and star, Lena Dunham, who co-wrote this flavorless and cliched script with director Ry Russo-Young, rendering a solid performance by Olivia Thirlby utterly pointless.

Russo-Young sheds the wildly experimental style that failed so harshly with 2009's You Won't Miss Me, in favor of a more natural, live-in look that better matches the Cholodenko-esque vibe of the story. Thirlby plays 23-year old Martine, a New York hipster artist transplanted in the heart of Los Angeles where she instantly sticks out like a sore thumb. The title is essentially a play on her fish out of water status, as she's never needed a car before arriving in bustling L.A. John Krasinski gives an inert performance as Peter, the renowned Hollywood sound engineer whose home she's staying in while they complete the soundtrack on her short film about insects.

It's obvious right from the start that Peter is going to be putty in Martine's hands, as she's night and day different from his analytical wife Julie(Rosemarie DeWitt), a therapist who immediately perceives the potential home-wrecker in their midst. In one of Russo-Young's finer touches, we see most of the events unfold through Martine's inexperienced eyes, and of course in her mind she's not doing anything wrong. Martine throws herself at every male in the house, not only Peter but his young assistant, playing them both against one another without any comprehension of what she's doing. She's not evil, self-absorbed, or intentionally manipulative, just clueless when it comes to the repercussions of her actions.

This exploration of a young woman's newly developed sexuality is ripe with potential that sadly goes unfulfilled, weighed down by a script that is both splintered and shallow.  A number of subplots are introduced hitting many of the same thematic notes. Julie, perhaps emboldened by Peter's lust for the younger Martine, entertains the idea of an affair with one of her horny patients(Justin Kirk), who also happens to be in the movie biz as a hack writer. The most interesting of all is the sexual emergence of their 16-year old daughter, Kolt(India Ennenga), who fends off the advances of her language tutor while jealously watching Martine gallivant between men. Characters flit in and out of the story serving little purpose, such as a glorified cameo by Dylan McDermott as Julie's ex-husband.

Thirlby's far superior to the material she's given to work with here, painting an authentic portrait of a woman coming into her own, and making more than her share of mistakes along the way. Krasinski's such a natural charmer and affable guy that it's tough to take watching him give such a lifeless performance. He and Thirlby share a few moments of playful chemistry, but there's no true passion to give the film the kick it so desperately needs.

Russo-Young got her start in the minimalist "Mumblecore" movement, where plot is nearly always secondary to character and clever writing. Nobody Walks meanders along with little direction, and there seems to be a concerted effort to not lay any blame on any of these characters. A little guilt, some anger, and a touch of responsibility would have gone a long way in making these people worth caring about.