Episodic films are attractive to me: they are prone to lyrical tangents and memorable portrait. Crooklyn brings exactly that to the table, but not without losing its hyper-focus on the Carmichael family. Nothing about the household feels like a caricature.
While it's a pleasure to see the Carmichaels' home-life, the film's scope doesn't stop there. We get a sizeable look into their 1970s Brooklyn neighbourhood, then the satisfying (and shockingly ultra-wide) juxtaposition of somewhere suburban in the South. Things don't stop happening, and the music barely ever stops.
This has been compared to Lost in Translation, which is also a quiet, contemplative trip where a famous actor gets strung along, carried by hotel- and wait-staff, and those who know the local language (but in this case: Italian). What I think sets Somewhere apart from Lost is its lead’s missing sense of humour, and later on, what forces the main character to face himself and create change.
From the beginning, he humourlessly brushes off the fact that his day-to-day life is unsustainable…