Paper Heart is a cinematic expression of the idea that
awkwardness equals authenticity—that bad social skills and an
inability to relate to others are hallmarks of “realness.” Tracing the
evolution of this idea would be an interesting exercise (John Cusack
might have something to do with it), but instead, Paper Heart and its disingenuous, faux-documentary structure represent the pinnacle
of self-absorbed twentysomething cinema to date.
The movie’s heroine, Charlyne Yi, is a terminally graceless standup
comedian who believes herself incapable of experiencing love. With the
help of her producer/director, Nicholas (played here by Jake M.
Johnson), she sets out to make a documentary about love, interviewing
people who claim to be in it and scientists who study it, with the
ultimate goal of finding out what she’s missing.
But as Charlyne is diving horn-rims first into the gaping depths of
her own navel, something happens: She meets a boy. Michael
Cera—Charlyne’s real-life boyfriend—shows up, and his
presence in this film should come as no surprise (the keywords
“awkward” and “navel” should’ve clued you in). She seems to like his
dry wit. He, presumably, appreciates her childlike enthusiasm. Though
the pairing of these two is clearly a genetic recipe for Asperger’s,
there are sparks—shy, stammering, eye contact-avoiding
sparks.
Through all of this, the pretense is maintained that what we’re
watching is an actual documentary, the focus of which has shifted from
Charlyne researching love to Charlyne experiencing love, or at least
trying to. To that end, Charlyne’s producer becomes an increasing
presence in the movie, as his insistence on filming the details of her
relationship with Michael places increasing pressure on the couple.
Paper Heart is like the CliffsNotes version of a Charlie
Kaufman movie, soundtracked by an endlessly looping Jeffrey Lewis song,
and coasting on a charm that’s not as bountiful as its creators
suppose. Men who refer to themselves as “boys” will probably enjoy
it.