You could say that “Tully” is a familiar comedy-drama about a stressed-out mom in her 40s who, after her third child, finds physical support and emotional solace in the company of a 26-year-old child-care aide. There’s the trope of the disengaged dad (a warm and shaggy Ron Livingston) and even a sight gag about stepping on stray Legos, barefoot.
But that synopsis does an injustice to the film.
Not because it’s inaccurate, but because it doesn’t begin to capture the cinematic sleight-of-hand by which this third collaboration between director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody (“Juno,” “Young Adult”) transforms itself from a garden-variety tale of harried parenthood into something stranger, more honest and even magical.
How it accomplishes that trick must not be revealed; it involves one of filmdom’s great bits of storytelling trickery. But that it does so, and in the service of a narrative that is at once prosaic in its specificity and marvelously poetic, should be celebrated.
Charlize Theron, never better, plays Marlo, an expectant mother of two young children who, after her second child is kicked out of school because of his “quirks,” hires a night nanny to help care for her newborn. Such a position entails watching the baby so that Mommy can get her beauty rest. If you get a good one, the night nanny might even make cupcakes and clean the house for you while you’re in Dreamland.
Such a gift is Tully (Mackenzie Davis), the almost impossibly wise, sexy, weird and slightly wild woman who shows up — paid for by Marlo’s rich brother Craig (Mark Duplass) — and who quickly becomes not just the hired help but Marlo’s best friend and confidante. Laid-back yet eager to please, Tully makes a wondrously levelheaded and insightful foil to Theron’s middle-aged mother.
Tully prods Marlo to reconnect with some part of herself that she believes she has lost. As Craig puts it, Marlo is like a match that has been “snuffed out.”
Under Tully’s care, she begins to burn a little bit brighter again.
Maybe too bright. Things come to a head one night when the relationship between Marlo and Tully, who seem to have developed a symbiotic connection, crosses the line between the professional and, well, the reckless.
Relax. This is no horror film about a psychotic babysitter. But the dynamic between these two women shifts dramatically. At the same time, Reitman and Cody maintain a firm grip on the steering wheel, guiding their story off-road not because they’re lost, but because that’s where they have decided to take us.
The choice is a bold and thrilling one, and it mostly works like a dream, except for one scene where the film’s narrative gimmick stretches the audience’s credulity a bit too much. That it works as well as it does is thanks to a screenplay that largely drops Cody’s signature sarcasm for a voice that is much more raw and direct.
Not that “Tully” is cinéma vérité, by any means. Things are never exactly what they seem here, but there’s a deeper, more authentic story Reitman and Cody are interested in telling, even when — maybe especially when — the film veers toward fantasy.
If “Tully” is a movie that cheats, even lies to us a little bit, it’s to get at a more real and recognizable truth.
Rated R for coarse language and some sexuality and nudity.