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And boy, oh boy, does he watch porn. Multiple times a day. In fact, after having sex with the girls he brings home, Jon sneaks out of bed while they’re asleep to hit the Internet hard. And here’s the biggest problem I had with “Don Jon,” a movie whose atmosphere and acting are immensely entertaining: This central plot device is so dumb. Sure, I guess porn addiction exists, and I don’t doubt that the social prevalence of pornography has affected the sexual imagination and people’s love lives. But in this case it doesn’t feel like it’s really what the movie’s about. It’s almost as if Gordon-Levitt came up with this great character who’s stuck in a rut-like existence he doesn’t even realize is a rut, and then grafted this semi-important cultural issue onto him, as a way of symbolizing his dilemma. It never feels organic, and in fact I never believed that porn was Jon’s real problem.
Maybe it’s a broad comedy role in an insignificant film, but I can hardly even explain to you how enjoyable Johansson is here; anyone who believes she underplays or cannot act has yet to meet Barbara Sugarman. Fully accessorized, highlighted, entitled and faux-humble, Barbara is a nightmarish vision of prepackaged gorgeousness against which Jon has no chance. I swear, when they kiss you can smell the gum. (That sour-apple kind, with sparkles.) As usual in Jon’s life, he doesn’t quite realize what’s happening, but Barbara soon pushes him into what one of his pals dubs the “long game”: bringing her home to meet his parents (Tony Danza and Glenne Headly, both doing shtick but very funny), taking her to rom-coms (we see snippets of one involving Anne Hathaway and Channing Tatum), declaring an absolute moratorium on all that porn.
I’m not sure that Gordon-Levitt completely pulls off the sudden shift in tone that follows when Jon unexpectedly pivots from Barbara to Esther, and just as suddenly stops putting gel in his hair and starts asking questions about family, religion and so forth. But I found myself utterly charmed by the generosity of vision and the dramatic ambition at work here; it’s as if a mid-‘90s Italian-American sex farce (definitely co-starring Joe Pesci) had suddenly turned into a Henry Miller novel. This is a sweet, lively and funny movie rather than a fully realized one, but it makes clear that Gordon-Levitt has a natural feeling for cinema and should do more of it. As for Jon, I’m completely fine with the idea that a love affair with a grieving, pot-smoking cougar, however short or long it may last, provides him with a Huck Finn raft-ride into a new life. Internet porn helped launch him on that journey, and so did Swiffer.



















