Matthew Broderick Hides Behind Beard in Wonderful World 
 
 Ben Singer (Matthew Broderick), once the third-biggest kids' musician in the country, is now the number-one grump of an unnamed city that's played by Shreveport, Louisiana, where writer-director Joshua Goldin's feature debut was shot, and which also doubles, later in the film, as Dakar, Senegal. More impoverished than the budget is Wonderful World's script, a shopworn tale of redemption in which the constantly outraged, pot-puffing misanthrope learns that "magic is everywhere." Alienating his legal-proofreader co-workers and even his 11-year-old daughter, Sandra (Jodelle Ferland), with his bilious indignation, Ben softens in the company of his Senegalese roommate and chess partner, Ibu (Michael K. Williams), who soon exits the movie in a diabetic coma, though his work in the rehabilitation of Ben's soul will be quickly picked up by his sister, Khadi (Sanaa Lathan). It's heartbreaking to see Lathan, an underemployed actress whose talents were last put to good use in 2006's Something Else, in such a ridiculous, impossible role, falling into bed with repugnant Ben and teaching Sandra West African dance. And Broderick looks as if he wants to hide permanently behind his three-day growth. ||||| Film Reviews 
 
 Up in the Air -- Film Review 
 
 Bottom Line: Laughs and heartbreak meld seamlessly in this brilliant character drama. 
 
 TELLURIDE, Colo. -- Cynicism and sentiment have melded magically in movies by some of the best American directors, from Preston Sturges and Billy Wilder to Alexander Payne. Jason Reitman mined the same territory in "Thank You for Smoking" and his smash hit, "Juno," and it's pleasing to report that he's taken another rewarding journey down this prickly path in his eagerly awaited new film, "Up in the Air." Boasting one of George Clooney's strongest performances, the film seems like a surefire awards contender, and the buzz will attract a sizable audience, even though some viewers might be startled by the uncompromising finale.Reitman and co-writer Sheldon Turner embellishes Walter Kirn's acclaimed novel about a man who spends much of his life in the air, traveling around the country to fire people for executives too gutless to do the dirty job themselves. The character is just about as unsavory as the corporate pimp played by Jack Lemmon in Wilder's "The Apartment." When a character begins as such a sleazeball, you know there must be a moral transformation lurking somewhere in the last reel. That redemption never quite arrives for Clooney's Ryan Bingham, which is one of the things that makes "Air" so bracing.Before the movie plunges into deeper waters, it seduces us with some of the most darkly hilarious moments to grace the screen in years. Clooney's crack comic timing makes the most of Ryan's acrid zingers as he savors a life without the vaguest threat of commitment. Trouble arises when his boss hires a young dynamo, Natalie (Anna Kendrick), who has the idea of cutting costs by instituting a program of firing people over the Internet instead of in person.Ryan sees his footloose lifestyle threatened, but he is forced to take Natalie on a cross-country odyssey to train her in the niceties of delivering bad news deftly. The interplay between the world-weary Ryan and the naive Natalie makes for delicious comedy, and Kendrick plays her role smoothly. There's also a wonderful performance by Vera Farmiga as Alex, a dynamo who clicks with Ryan because she's also seeking no-strings sex on the run. ("Think of me as you with a vagina," Alex tells Ryan helpfully.)Eventually, Ryan begins to question the assumptions that have ruled his life. His encounters with Alex and Natalie threaten his complacency. We can't help worrying that the film may take a sentimental turn, but miraculously, it never does. A scene in which Ryan returns home for a family wedding and talks a reluctant groom (well played by Danny McBride) into going through with the nuptials is a beautifully modulated sequence that manages to be poignant without ever falling into slop. Reitman is a rare director with heart as well as sardonic humor, but he always knows when to pull back. There is only one false note -- a montage sequence near the end in which several of the people fired by Ryan burble about their love for their families -- that simply restates the obvious.But if this tiny gaffe reveals a touch of insecurity on Reitman's part, the rest of the film is perfectly controlled. The entire cast is splendid. A couple of "Juno" alumni pop up: Jason Bateman is the smarmy boss who makes Ryan look humane, and J.K. Simmons has a single scene that proves just how much a master actor can convey in two or three minutes of screen time.The razor-sharp editing by Dana Glauberman gives the film a breezy momentum even while it's delivering piercing social insights. Holding everything together is Clooney, who bravely exposes the character's ruthlessness while also allowing us to believe in his too-late awakening to the possibilities he's missed. It's rare for a movie to be at once so biting and so moving. If Ryan's future seems bleak, there's something exhilarating about a movie made with such clear-eyed intelligence. ||||| There are frequent fliers, there are high fliers, and then there is Ryan Bingham. He's cheerfully clocked only he knows how many miles over the last year, 322 days flying airline hub to spoke for work. That makes 322 nights comparing the minibars (and maxibabes) at Marriotts and Hiltons. Which leaves him a mere "43 miserable days" in home sweet Omaha. 
 
 Ryan (George Clooney) is The Terminator, euphemistically a Career Transition Counselor, the suave bully you call when cowed by the prospect of eliminating excess employees. See Ryan train his buckshot eyes on the target about to be culled. Hear him deliver soothing platitudes about job loss as an opportunity for spiritual growth. Feel his palpable relief as he settles in his first-class seat on the way to the next gig. 
 
 For Ryan, happiness is a flotation device beneath the rump. The people he terminates have no such cushion. 
 
 And for him, a connection isn't interpersonal, it's the transfer you make at Terminal B. 
 
 This he believes - until he meets Alex (Vera Farmiga), his female counterpart, and Natalie (Anna Kendrick), his colleague, women who will rock his world, personally and professionally. They are him, only with gal parts. He's both turned on and scared by these mirror images, the rootless careerist without home ties, and the efficiency expert trying to achieve even greater economies of scale. 
 
 Up in the Air, Jason Reitman's nimble adaptation of the 2001 novel by Walter Kirn, is perfectly tailored to Clooney's melancholy twinkle and purring motormouth. I don't know if it's the best movie of the year, but it's the most utterly enjoyable. 
 
 While it may be only Reitman's third feature (after Thank You for Smoking and Juno) the 32-year-old son of producer/director Ivan Reitman (Ghostbusters, Stripes) has a firmer command of star and story than many veterans twice his age and experience. 
 
 Rather than scripting the reactions of the newly downsized, Reitman filmed the responses of real-life workers recently laid off. Their stinging earfuls are a most eloquent way of showing the human turbulence of corporate cost-cutting. 
 
 A satirical account of an economy where the only growth industry is in layoffs, Up in the Air is also a ruefully funny portrait of a culture preoccupied with elite memberships, bonus points, and upgrades - empty status symbols in uneasy times. The scene where Ryan and Alex show each other what's inside their wallets may be one of the funniest pickup sequences ever, but it also speaks to the characters' status anxiety. 
 
 Farmiga (The Departed) is, as always, sublime, a human version of the hot-and-cold patch you get to treat a bruised muscle. In this movie, the muscle is Ryan's heart. 
 
 Did I mention how great Clooney is? In recent years, he's become the go-to guy for movies about recovering cynics. But never before has he conveyed the extent to which his character's lightness of spirit was a means of allaying fears of the dark. 
 
 Ryan may not be admirable, but Clooney makes him relatable. It's his deepest and nakedest performance, one that plays into his public persona as the guy who flies solo and deserves all the award recognition it will get. 
 
 His Ryan speaks with velvet-voiced authority. Listen closely and you hear the fraying nerves. What might happen if the man who draws a paycheck from downsizing could himself be downsized? What might happen if inside this lone ranger was a lonely guy hankering to couple up? What might happen if the man flying high above layoffs could be grounded? 
 
 Contact movie critic Carrie Rickey 
 
 at 215-854-5402 or crickey@phillynews.com. 
 
 Read her blog, "Flickgrrl," 
 
 at http://www.philly.com/ 
 
 philly/blogs/flickgrrl/
– Critics are not sold on Wonderful World, a creaky indie starring Matthew Broderick as a misanthropic children’s folksinger. Here’s what the critics are saying: World is “a checklist-indie that offers up clichés with gusto,” even flirting with Magical Negro stereotypes, writes Nick Schager of Slant. “Broderick mopes and grouses admirably,” but this treacle is still “pretty close to the bottom of the barrel.” Keith Uhlich of Time Out New York agrees, crediting the cast with giving a “committed, nearly convincing effort” in what’s ultimately “fey Indiewood bullcrap.” The script, a “shopworn tale of redemption,” is atrocious, writes Melissa Anderson of the Village Voice, and it’s heartbreaking to see talented female lead Sanaa Lathan in “such a ridiculous, implausible role." Broderick, meanwhile, “looks as if he wants to hide behind his three-day growth.” Indeed, Mark Olsen of the Los Angeles Times wonders what the heck happened to Broderick. “One looks at the guy and he seems miserable,” he writes. “Is adulthood that dreary? Is there something else we should know?”