'Poolman' review: Chris Pine plays laid-back L.A. detective

Chris Pine may love Los Angeles more than anyone. He also loves movies about Los Angeles, talking about movies about Los Angeles, going to the movies in Los Angeles and making movies about making movies in Los Angeles, all of which is laid out in his affable directorial debut, “Poolman,” a Love Letter. and homage (and satire) to black stoners in Los Angeles. Pine co-wrote the script with Ian Gotler and stars in the title role as dimwitted Darren Barrenman, aka DB, a lazy pool cleaner with eyes the same cerulean hue as the body of chlorinated water he tends to with almost religious ecstasy.

This Ken's job is “pool,” and on “Poolman,” a riff on “Chinatown” that continues to be advertised as such, DB has to follow the water. Our unlikely hero is the Dude from “The Big Lebowski” as a manic pixie dream, a guy effervescently charming and inexplicably quirky. With his willingness to be vulnerable, his childlike enthusiasm, and his unique wardrobe, DB is also reminiscent of another memorable Los Angeles character: Pee-wee Herman.

DB lives in a trailer in the courtyard of a downtrodden apartment complex, reciting typewritten letters to Erin Brockovich and hanging out with his motley group of friends, including his therapist Diane (Annette Bening), his documentary collaborator Jack (Danny DeVito), his girlfriend Susan. (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and her friend and partner Wayne (John Ortiz). Together they reflect on the good old days of Los Angeles when they weren't crashing city council meetings with dramatic filibusters over bus schedules.

But this isn't just another shaggy dog ​​hangout movie, showcasing Pine's appreciation for classic movies, beloved actors, old-school L.A. diners, shorts and silly hats. The femme fatale enters at the edge of the pool. Wearing a sculptural 1940s-inspired dress and hat, she is June Del Ray (DeWanda Wise), the assistant to the city councilman (Stephen Tobolowsky) with whom DB is engaged in a brutal but banal battle. She tells DB that she has dirt on her boss, who she claims is collaborating in a shady real estate deal with a developer named Teddy Hollandaise (Clancy Brown). With a bat of his eyelashes, the pool man becomes a private investigator.

“Poolman” is Pine's innocent version of the movies he mentions everywhere, like “Chinatown” and “Who Framed Roger Rabbit.” But it plays out like more recent films like “Inherent Vice” and “Under the Silver Lake”: self-conscious versions of L.A. noir that come with added layers of existentialism and winking commentary. Pine seems less motivated to comment on the genre, simply happy to play in the sandbox, exploring iconography, archetypes, and extremely specific references.

“Poolman’s” Achilles heel is its tendency toward hyper-specific geographical jokes; is too “inside baseball” to appeal to anyone outside of Los Angeles, and at times feels like a long version of the “Saturday Night Live” sketch “The Californians” (Pine's long blonde locks add to that feeling). The central mystery is weak and unconvincing and at best feels obligatory, a real estate scandal providing a vague backdrop against which these actors act.

Fortunately, the best part of the movie is the cast. If Pine has good taste in anything, it's in actors. He's assembled an ensemble that includes a superstar (Bening, having fun), a comedian (DeVito, delivering a near-nonstop monologue about parking and cake), and a group of character actors who always make you feel like you're in safe hands. and capable. Add to that a compelling wit (Wise) and at least one charming oddball (Ray Wise) and the movie would be entertaining even if you only read the phone book.

Eventually the plot spirals out of control and it never feels like Pine and Gotler have control over this vehicle hurtling through the streets of our city. But there is such warmth in the effort that it is never an entirely unpleasant experience. Pine's “Poolman” is a kind of physical, emotional, and spiritual embodiment of Los Angeles: serious, silly, and a little (or a lot) ridiculous, but insistently charming if you choose to surrender to the experience.

Katie Walsh is a film critic for the Tribune News Service.