Catch and Release takes place in Boulder Colorado, where—apparently—people live and think like neo-’60s communists, have jobs with big-screen computer monitors graced by wallpaper with lots of furry animals (and don’t use the full screen just so they can have a view of their pretty animals on the desktop), use ’80s vintage cell phones, drive five- to ten-year-old cars and talk a lot with their hands in front of their faces with the fingers fully extended. All but the fat speak in barely audible whispers, and walk around in an eternal mope. Yet the mopey people of Boulder are exceedingly more cheerful than those from L.A.—as Fritz from L.A. notes while walking through town.

The backdrop to Catch and Release, unbelievably, includes all of the above. There is a scene in which Jennifer Garner, playing a character with the catchy name of “Gray,” and Timothy Olyphant (as Fritz) walk around in downtown Boulder. Fritz comments on how happy all the people appear to be. There is even a couple singing a duet in full folk-singer garb, with a single guitar and Prozac grins on their faces. Groovy, man! Who cares that the song lyrics could only be privately interpreted. These folks are smiling and doing their thing. Peace, baby. Imagine that.

Gray, appropriately named, appears genuinely grieved by the untimely death of her fiancé just days before the wedding. She is hurt when she discovers that her fiancé was not who she thought he was, but she doesn’t have the gumption to do much more than ask Fritz for more information—and he does nothing more than shill to cover for her fiancé’s past life. This, of course, makes her so angry she decides to have an affair with Fritz. (They do, however, have a fairly heated exchange in which both of them stare blankly and hold their hands in front of their faces with fingers fully extended.)

The director does almost nothing to help us understand the relationships that develop. Motivation is non-existent. Moods never seem to change. Grief is muted, joy is muted, life goes on and doesn’t change a thing. And soul-searching never enters this film’s lexicon. The dialogue doesn’t address the philosophical issues the film raises—it blithely assumes the answers are obvious: What the heck; we all live in a moral cocoon of anticlimax and communal openness. You may be an ogre and a liar. But you look pretty cute, and I need someone right now. I guess you’ll do. “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with,” as the hippie paean goes.

The result is that the film comes off as an ambient advertisement for a bogus idyllic lifestyle and/or the “real” Boulder. It’s a shamelessly manipulated vision of a hoped-for existence.

Actors often talk about a character’s motivation; still, I guess motivation doesn’t always have to be a factor. I walked away from Catch and Release wondering why I should care about any of these people. I realized that I don’t. And they didn’t ask me to. Groovy.

Catch and Release is rated PG-13 for “for sexual content, language and some drug use.” Now, there’s no nudity. But people have sex because… the music changes. You might just find that offensive. This film is less about what motivates people and more about the mechanics of relationships—and you might just find that view of sexuality offensive, too, sex scenes aside.

Courtesy of a local publicist, Mike attended a promotional screening of Catch and Release.