Joe Swanberg returns for another realistic relationship mess in The Sun Never Sets
The mumblecore stalwart charmingly, simply navigates a midlife love triangle.
Photo: Independent Film Company
Joe Swanberg‘s films are a little more articulate now than when he was in the prolific mumblecore heyday of the early 2010s (he released six features in 2011 alone), but they’ve never outgrown or overenunciated their realism. The last decade has seen him slow his film output down, pivoting partially to TV and even operating a VHS rental out of the back of a pizza place. But that momentary pause, seemingly a deep breath before plunging back in, didn’t interrupt his honest view of how people clash and come together, imperfectly yet eternally. It’s only natural that his return to film, The Sun Never Sets, is both a familiar kind of relationship dramedy and a warm dirtbaggish embrace from a staple of the subgenre.
Swanberg once again works with his modern muse, Jake Johnson (Win It All, Digging For Fire, Drinking Buddies), but doesn’t place him in the center. That position is held by Dakota Fanning, who plays an Anchorage construction manager caught in a love triangle foolishly but believably constructed from insecurities. Wendy (Fanning) is dating Jack (Johnson), who’s older, more well-off, divorced, and co-parenting a pair of kids. Jack, in one of those boneheaded film-premise moves (and also one of those boneheaded self-destructive-schlub moves), suggests that before they take their relationship in an even more serious direction, Wendy should date around a little more to make sure that she’s not going to regret settling into Jack’s comfortable, established life.
It’s a maneuver born of fear—Jack’s, not Wendy’s—and one whose black-and-white ultimatum (them or me!) reflects the lives of these people isolated on the edge of America, where one commits to fringe living and days are either everlasting or completely dark. The Sun Never Sets, by the way, looks much better than every anonymously urban version of this movie, and much better than the scrappy digital photography frequently deployed in some of Swanberg’s past works.
Of course, the one-sided decision to take a brief break collides head-on with the return of Wendy’s hunky manchild ex-boyfriend Chuck (Cory Michael Smith). After a few reluctant, crappy first dates with strangers and acquaintances holding unrequited crushes, Wendy inevitably reconnects with Chuck upon his arrival back in Alaska, but this contrived setup—of old flames, reliable beaus, and the indecisive woman caught between them—merely establishes a foundation for these three to provide mature emotional shades to this larger portrait of a complicated social circle. Similarly, the script was initially just composed of those more conventional structural bones and Swanberg’s personal experiences; the rest was left to improvisation.