Discovering all the panic beneath the serene surface is Carter Webb, played by former O.C.er Adam Brody.  Webb is a soft-core-porn screenwriter recently dumped by his starlet girlfriend.  When he flees to Michigan to care for his dying grandmother (Olympia Dukakis), he meets three female neighbors who transform his life.  Well, “transform” may be too strong a word for a screenplay offering few surprises and lacking a true moment of discovery for Webb. 

In the Land of Women is the directorial debut of Jonathan Kasdan, who also wrote the screenplay.  He’s the son of Lawrence Kasdan, screenwriter of Boomer-fave The Big Chill who also serves as an Executive Producer for In the Land of Women.  Movies about disillusioned wealthy types seem to be a family business. 

Here we have Carter Webb and Sarah Hardwicke (Meg Ryan).  He is heartbroken and dissatisfied with his work, and she is unhappy with her husband and recently diagnosed with cancer.  The two meet outside their homes and end up taking a series of intense walks together, discussing their mutual lack of direction. 

Webb and Hardwicke are deeply introspective lost souls, and they connect immediately.  Brody and Ryan demonstrate an impressive amount of chemistry.  She returns to her quirky comfort zone after playing against type in her last two films, Against the Ropes and In the Cut.  Brody is also rather comfortable, bringing all his awkward charm and humor to this role.  He works hard to act sincere in the film’s more serious moments, and I really wanted to buy it.  I’m still not sure if his acting lacks depth or if the ghost of The O.C.’s Seth Cohen continues to color my view of him.  But Brody’s scenes with Ryan are delightful, and he can’t help but be likeable on screen. 

Kasdan generally sticks to the formula in his main narrative plotting.  In one scene, Hardwicke tells Webb that “she has something to show him,” dialogue that exists only in the movies.  Sure enough, she takes him to her secret place, a lush woodsy area where Hardwicke finds peace. I suppose we are to surmise that these two people can see beauty in the world that others miss in the daily grind.  Ah, the glory of being wealthy enough to have leisure time.

Despite romantic walks in the woods, this isn’t a movie about Webb and Hardwicke finding love.  Indeed, the film’s marketing posters depict Webb engaged in a passionate kiss with Hardwicke’s teenage daughter Lucy (Kristen Stewart).  Yet this, too, is somewhat of a red herring.  Kasdan confuses the audience by offering two love interests, one too old and one too young.  In this purposeful distortion of the romance formula, Kasdan imbues the film with an engaging tension. 

Kasdan’s screenplay rises above convention in other moments as well.  Sarah Hardwicke voices her dilemma as “housewife” with refreshing honesty as she wonders if she has lost herself in her commitment to her family.  Webb asks her what she does with her day, and she doesn’t know how to respond—does the world view the daily life of a suburban housewife as valuable anymore?  Kasdan depicts Sarah Hardwicke with compassion—she knows her life is a cliché, but she admits to being comfortable within it. 

Daughter Lucy befriends Webb at the urging of her mother, and both women end up sharing their souls with the willing listener.  Lucy has a secret shame that offers the opportunity for an incredibly non-formulaic exploration of adolescent sexuality, but Kasdan shies away.  Instead, Lucy worries about whom she should kiss for the first time.  Old enough to drive but never been kissed?  Again, only in the movies.

This land of women also comprises Webb’s grandmother and Hardwicke’s younger daughter, Paige (Mackenzie Vega).  Dukakis is a riot as Webb’s somewhat-crazy grandmother, who insists that she is dying.  Unfortunately, she gets lost in the film’s romantic plotline, forced to play the deus ex machina.  Vega’s Paige is precocious and astute.  Too astute, in fact, for a young girl (of ambiguous age—maybe 10?  12?).  She becomes the most self-aware character in the film.  But Paige, too, exists to service the romantic plot, employed as a tool to draw out the main characters’ deepest feelings.

Others in the theatre compared this movie to the burgeoning genre that can be termed “Zach Braffian”—movies that examine the malaise of today’s privileged youth.  The music defies this designation, including completely unhip artists like Huey Lewis and the News.  More to the point, however, Kasdan’s story spans the generations, providing equal screen time to Gen X, Gen Y, and the Millennials.  The film’s ending defies formula by embracing a messy ending.  In the Land of Women voices a lot of questions but doesn’t provide easy answers.  In this ambiguity, Kasdan distinguishes himself as a writer and director.  It will be interesting to see what he does in the future when he lets go of his comfort zone.