Wish I Was Here

‘This song will change your life,’ Natalie Portman’s character informed Zach Braff’s on-screen alter ego in his debut directorial effort Garden State, and the circle of the star and filmmaker’s art imitating his reality, and vice versa, began. Best known for TV sitcom Scrubs at the time, he would come to be defined by the film, but a successive offering was not swiftly forthcoming. Ten years and a highly publicised, undeniably successful crowdfunding campaign later, Wish I Was Here sees the light of day – and shows just how intently Braff listened to those words.

An unsuccessful actor struggles with quarter-life malaise as the markers of his adulthood begin to bear down on his unhappy existence. A description that proved true of Garden State now matches Wish I Was Here, with Braff ostensibly remaking his own first feature. Names and locations have changed, and the character he plays is immersed in different difficulties by virtue of being older; however the narrative beats, thematic threads and underlying messaging remains. Garden State changed Braff’s life to the extent that he seemingly dare not depart from it in his long-awaited second film, taking the concept of a follow-up much too literally.

Braff’s Aidan Bloom wanders between depressing commercial auditions while his wife, Sarah (Kate Hudson, The Reluctant Fundamentalist), languishes in a job she hates to support him and their children Grace (Joey King, White House Down) and Tucker (Pierce Gagnon, Looper). When his father, Gabe (Mandy Patinkin, TV’s Homeland), becomes ill, Aidan must reassess his choices, home-schooling his kids to save money, thinking about his career options, and striving to bring his brother, Noah (Josh Gad, The Internship), back into the family fold.

Co-writing the script with his brother, Adam, Braff’s handling of the material is as competent as it is sincere, with the requisite tender exchanges between fathers and children across several generations, and an empathetic exploration of young minds searching for their senses of selves, again at various ages. Alas, what pains Wish I Was Here is that he has done it all before, and better, without such a feeling of needless bloating or heavy reliance on clichés. A latter stage of maturity might inspire the story, as very well may his prolonged difficulties in branching beyond his first feature, but nothing more potent resonates in this filmic facsimile.

With another soundtrack that plays like a mixtape of indie-pop hits, and an identical golden glow filtering through returning cinematographer Lawrence Sher’s imagery, Braff never allows a moment’s doubt that he is working with a familiar exact formula. Comparable songs, shots and sequences – matching character’s wardrobe choices against their backgrounds, for example, and laying musical montages on thick in moving moments – further heighten the similarities at every turn. While such a commitment to a style wavers between commendable and indulgent, growth – not mere repetition – should be evident. Braff’s protagonist enjoys an advance in years, but not his whimsical mood and direction.

The movie’s modest highlights, though few and far between, stem from two performances: the reliable Patinkin as the elder statesman, and the youthful King as the feature’s true heart. One brings wry wisdom, the other plucky energy – two traits the film so obviously wishes for, but can’t perfect as a whole. Other on-screen efforts are improved in scenes with each, such as Braff and Hudson’s as the uncertain thirtysomethings caught in the middle. Yet, wrapped up in a convenient narrative and recognisable packaging, not even the most earnest of portrayals or best of intentions can exceed Wish I Was Here’s self-imposed confines as Garden State 2.0.