It must be nice to write and direct movies for yourself to star in. Think about it: People like Woody Allen and Edward Burns are always writing these romantic movies and casting themselves as the lead opposite some hot actress. It's hard not to envy Zach Braff, the writer, director and star of Garden State, in which he plays a depressed twentysomething actor who falls in love with a hyperactive Jersey girl played by Natalie Portman.
Imagine Braff sitting there, writing the scene in which his Andrew and Portman's Sam kiss for the first time, in the pouring rain, naturally. Certainly, as the star of popular sitcom Scrubs, Braff must be a professional. But there had to be something in the back of his mind thinking, "What hot, young actress can I direct to make out with me in this scene?"
Luckily Braff and Portman are close enough in age that he doesn't come off as an Allen-style pervert, and Garden State is such an assured, emotionally affecting film and Braff such a lovable presence that you can't begrudge the guy his make-out sessions with Portman. Like The Graduate, to which it's drawn numerous comparisons, Garden State is about what some call the quarter-life crisis, finding yourself in your mid-20s and not sure where your life is headed. Andrew Largeman (Braff), a struggling LA actor, is having such a crisis when his mother dies and he's called back to New Jersey for her funeral.
Self-conscious, insecure, and medicated to the point of numbness by his psychiatrist dad (Ian Holm) since he was 10, Andrew undergoes a reawakening of sorts during his few days back in Jersey. He stops taking his medication, hangs out with his old buddy Mark (Peter Sarsgaard), and meets the vibrant, mendacious Sam (Portman) in a doctor's waiting room.
Garden State is a simple film and basic love story, but it perfectly captures general post-collegiate angst as well as the peculiarities of Braff's generation, especially the tendency to solve all mental problems with medication. As a first-time writer, Braff sometimes wallows too much in overly quirky characters, but as a first-time director, he's remarkably assured. As an actor, he subtly captures Andrew's transformation from distant loner to a person who can finally allow himself to feel. Portman is even better, losing herself totally in the flawed, funny and endearing Sam. As long as Braff keeps making films like this one, he deserves free rein to make out with all the hot, young actresses he wants.