Staff Writer

DeKALB | 7/10

Steve Carell has his own brand of body language. It is awkward, but not clumsy. Definitive, yet not quite confident. In “Dan in Real Life,” he uses this bizarre combination to portray a man whose very atmosphere is… well, definitively awkward.

Carell plays Dan Burns, an author, advice columnist and widowed father of three young girls. He is a sincere and honest man who seems to dedicate a little too much of his time to parenting. He refuses to let one of his daughter’s drive. The other daughter can’t date a guy who she claims to be in love with after knowing him only three days.

While visiting with his family in Rhode Island, Dan falls for the beautiful and brilliant Marie (Juliette Binoche), whom he meets in a bookstore. As far as we can tell, there’s nothing wrong with Marie – other than the fact she’s dating Dan’s brother Mitch (Dane Cook).

Upon this discovery, Dan tries to hide his feelings from his family. He must spend the next three days under the same roof with Marie, as well as his entire family. This causes Dan to act out in strange ways that indicate to his family he may be having a mid-life crisis.

He has no one to talk to openly about what’s bothering him. He begins to realize that he, the supposed all-knowing advice columnist, needs advice more than anyone

.

Carrell effectively plays his character low-key, letting his troubled facial expressions do most of the talking. Dianne Wiest and John Mahoney turn in the finest, most delicate performances here as Dan’s intrusive parents.

The pair provide a noisy sense of humor when they actually take it upon themselves to set their son up on a blind date and force him to go through with it. Dan also has a handful of nieces, nephews and siblings (especially the naturally misplaced Dane Cook) who are there to impose upon his every odd and indecisive movement.

Besides a seriously unbearable musical duet between Carrell and Cook (Pete Townshend’s “Let My Love Open the Door” takes a brutal beating), “Dan in Real Life” is surprisingly more enjoyable than its trailers let on.

The subtlety on which it rides is its strength. It is a humorous and mature observation of how spontaneous love, life and family can be, especially when they collide at the same intersection.