Happy Hour (2004)

In “Happy Hour,” the decline and death of an dipsomaniac New York journalist is handled with an unsatisfying alloy of half-queer banter and inevitability, which neutralizes a valiant performance by Anthony LaPaglia. Fortunately bypassing a re-run of “Days of Wine and Roses” but declaration little inspiration to freshen an old concept, this tragedy about a lover and a friend helplessly watching the writer’s fade-out comes up short of its potential repercussions. Pic has made the rounds of minor and mid-range Stateside fests, but undeterred by a well-founded thesp lineup, forced joints are less likely a destination than vid dives.

Using a local bar as refuge from the creative poverty of his job as an ad agency copy editor, Tulley (LaPaglia) hits on school teacher Natalie (Caroline Feeney), describing himself in pic’s most memorable line as “a drinker with a writing problem.” A picture casually emerges of two lonely adults in the big city warily coming together, but what also becomes clear is the film’s contradictory impulses: On one hand, a pleasant and warm improv-like tone managed by LaPaglia and Feeney under Mike Bencivenga’s direction; on the other, the intrusion of arch and overly written “funny” dialogue that’s a shade from sitcom.

The dueling urges pull “Happy Hour” away from what could have been a strong, post-Cassavetes drama centered on a collapsing creative soul. Forming an odd triangle is Levine (Eric Stoltz), Tulley’s office and drinking buddy who knows how to call it quits long before Tulley, and yet has none of his mentor’s way with women. Natalie learns Tulley was a promising literary light in the early ’80s, but that he could never move away from the spotlight of his famous author father (Robert Vaughn). Still, Tulley is trying to forge ahead with his novel, which appears to be autobiographical.

Casting of Vaughn as Tulley Sr. turns out to be one of the film’s most inspired strokes, giving the actor some space in an effective and all-too-rare bigscreen appearance. The son’s sense of being overshadowed by his legendary dad is itself eclipsed by Tulley being diagnosed with cirrhosis. From this point on, “Happy Hour” takes on the mood of a deathwatch, broken up by quips and one-liners that too often play all wrong, regardless of the cast’s clear commitment to the project.

Tulley is never the challenging role suited to the scale and gravitas of LaPaglia’s brand of thesping, although the actor certainly humanizes a character who could have easily become unwatchable. Extremely limited in reactive parts, Feeney and Stoltz bring as much of a personal and relaxed bearing to the situation as they can. Vaughn is on view too little.

Shooting is so keen on the actors, either in close-ups or two-shots, that pic would actually lose little being seen on the tube. Given the story’s concerns with success and failure in New York City, the pic’s visual rendering of Gotham is weak.