By far, the best decision Universal Pictures and director Ol Parker made with their new romantic comedy film Ticket to Paradise (2022) is to cast veterans George Clooney and Julia Roberts as divorced couple David and Georgia Cotton, because no other aspect of this film matches their standard.
From the Chicago-set opening sequences, when their jobs and acrimonious divorce are quickly revealed, the biggest draw is the dialogue between Clooney and Roberts, which expertly straddles the line between witty banter and cringe comedy, effective as both thanks to their sparkling chemistry.
But the primary plot of the movie is not just about them but revolves around their daughter, Lily. Played by Kaitlyn Dever of Justified (2010-15) fame, Lily has forewent her upcoming law career during the summer after graduating, as she intends to turn her Bali vacation into a lifelong experience, having fallen in love with a local named Gede.
Given that her parents do not approve of her “impulsive” decision, half the attempts at comedy come from Clooney and Roberts learning the local marriage customs as they happen, and subsequently figuring out how to go about sabotaging said customs.
It’s something we have seen done better a million times before, and for the most part, you’re supposed to know by now exactly how it’s going to go. But Clooney and Roberts bring the same level of performance here that they had brought to the Coen brothers’ films and ‘90s rom-coms, respectively, and make the scenes work.
Unfortunately, the younger couple, played by Dever and Maxime Bouttier, simply doesn’t carry anywhere near the same weight and they rarely have convincing enough chemistry, a big disappointment given how well Dever played her recurring role in Justified.
This is through little fault of their own, as the screenplay is structured such that the opening sequences in Bali are rushed and director Parker doesn’t appear interested in showing us the first two months of her trip.
Rather, what we get once Clooney and Roberts approach these shores is Parker and cinematographer Ole Bratt Birkeland’s attempt to pass off rural Queensland as Bali, which, to be fair, they do quite a decent job of.
The other big issue from a writing perspective is the wafer-thin characterisation of the other supporting characters, both white and non-white. Billie Lourd and Lucas Bravo try their best as Lily’s best friend Wren and Georgia’s new boyfriend Paul, respectively, but the film might perhaps have been elevated if they were removed entirely.
They only serve as lazy punchlines and plot devices for the very basic character arcs Parker and co-writer Daniel Pipski have written for their two mega-stars. Despite the level of research Parker and co. appear to have done on the local culture and the hiring of actors who can speak the local language (with a tinge of an Australian accent), most of the Bali scenes feel way closer to an Eat Pray Love (2010) than Parker’s finest script work — The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2012).
And that contrast between touristy exoticisation and the very best is what hurts Ticket to Paradise from being anything more than just decent. It could have been Indonesia’s answer to The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which had some fish-out-of-water comedy but also some genuinely heartwarming moments and gave the Indian characters their due.
This film lacks that depth and limits most of the locals’ screentime to when they’re interacting with the Americans, when by far the funniest dialogue involves their acerbic banter with each other in Balinese. Despite attempts to subvert exoticisation, it feels inextricably baked into the story. Particularly with thematic content and the third act, the film tries to have its murtabak and eat it too, as the conclusions to several character arcs needed to be more satisfying.
However, faults and all, Ticket to Paradise is the kind of theatrical release retro rom-com that we need a lot more of globally, amid the glut of CGI crapfests, plagiarised blockbusters and propaganda-laced historical fiction.
As such, this is what Parker does best — casting the best available and occasionally letting them loose with the dialogue, channelling elements of late 90s and early 2000s comedies, especially the Rush Hour-esque bloopers that feature in the end credits.
(Edited by Tarannum Khan)