“Oh wow, we can take 34th Street,” Cliff (Michael Strassner) mentions to Didi (Liz Larsen) making their way to a Christmas Eve party in “The Balitmorons,” clearly appreciating the serendipity of an avenue associated with the holiday. Didi though, shows no sentimentality in suggesting a different route. Director Jay Duplass finds a road somewhere between those two lanes to make a joyful yet bittersweet comedy. Primed to become a seasonal standard, the film tracks two lost souls who find comfort in one another as all the other family get-togethers spark the loneliest of nights.
Both Cliff and Didi are in for a rough go of it; the two meet due to a chipped tooth that the former suffers on the way over to the family home of his girlfriend Brittany (Olivia Luccardi). Didi, a dentist, is one of the few in town to take an appointment during the holiday; for her, work seems preferable to the alternative of spending the winter’s night with her ex-husband (Brian Mendes) and his new wife (Mary Catherine Garrison) at the invitation of their daughter Shelby (Jessie Cohen). After Cliff overhears she’s planning to spend her favorite night of the year alone, and after he discovers his ow car towed from her office, it’s clear they’ll be spending more time together.
It turns out Cliff is used to improvising, having done so professionally for years as a comedian. “The Baltimorons” has both a practical and poignant use for the improviser’s code of “Yes, and…,” when one thing leads to another for Cliff and Didi. Both have closed themselves off from being as spontaneous as they once were, with Cliff explicitly prohibited from pursuing an improv career by his girlfriend after it led to issues with sobriety and suicide ideation. In middle age, Didi has also become timid after being let down too much by others. But as strangers who share a feeling of stasis (if not much else in common), they ask each other questions they probably haven’t heard from anyone around them in a while. Trust is an issue for them, and the film builds to a genuinely moving climax at a makeshift comedy club where they need every bit of it to pull off an onstage routine.
It’s actually been over a decade since Duplass was last in the director’s chair for a feature (“Cyrus”) — and this is first time without sharing duties with his brother Mark. Yet “The Baltimorons” is an immediate reminder of how duo first made their names, with sharp instincts for strong characters as the foundation for broad entertainment. To that end, it isn’t surprising that he partnered with lead Strassner, who not only throws himself into the bull-in-a-china-shop role of Cliff with great gusto, but also co-scripted the feature pulling from his own personal experience. The emotions always seem authentic, even when situations are exaggerated for comic effect. Strassner also has genuine sparks with Larsen, who radiates a hard-won knowledge as Didi, even when she may internally spiraling about where the pair’s relationship may be headed.
Although the film is a rare one to randomly acknowledge the COVID pandemic, it’s made to feel out of time with a gritty ’70s aesthetic that allows cinematographer Jonathan Bregel to savvily deploy well-timed zooms to pack extra punch. A jazzy score from Jordan Seigel warmly wears the influence of Vince Guaraldi, with a piano is often front and center, yet it takes on its own flavor as it remixes a number of holiday classics. Duplass is careful to make a film where it’s up to the people involved to make Christmas a special occasion, rather than any relying on the genre’s traditional trappings. In that regard, “The Baltimorons” has something to celebrate.
