Thank you Netflix. For all of your non sequitur suggestions (“Because you enjoyed Annie Hall: You might like Roots”) you really got it right on this one. A PSA style film about cocaine’s effect on a middle class father featuring a young James Spader. Mama likes. Dennis Weaver (a poor mans Burt Reynolds) is Eddie Gant, a middle aged father whose growing paunch, spreading crows feet, family burdens, and dwindling real estate business are all becoming a bit too much. When he’s offered some blow at a party he’s at first defiant, then curious. A few “toots” and a box of Just for Men later he’s talking at the speed of an auctioneer, shirt unbuttoned, and selling luxury home listings like a champ. Yet just like the high, you have to come down and Eddie’s downward spiral continues as he keeps his family and colleagues strapped into his sweaty roller coaster of emotions. Don’t you dare ask dad how his fucking day went. What’s wrong with you?! My only complaint with this film is in it’s sitcom like ending with all of dad’s problems being wrapped up before the 96 minute mark. I was hoping for a more sinister ending. Weaver would hug his family reassuring them that the worst was over. He’d then turn to the camera à la Thriller: red eyed and bloody nosed while Vincent Price manically cackles. His addiction never ends (!!!) Do I smell a sequel? Man, I need help.
