Directed by Alexander Payne

'We have to be changing our cinema, little by little, and have more human films.'
Alexander Payne

This distinctly non-mainstream little film, Payne's fine follow up to About Schmidt, crept sideways into the Oscar nominations, mostly on the strength of a great script and superb acting, particularly from Paul Giamatti, who, scandalously and inexplicably, didn't received a best actor nomination himself. A grown-up film about flawed and self-doubting individuals, but infused with the warm light of companionship and rural California in late summer.

'We've gone on holiday by mistake' is the opening quote of the novel on which the film is based. (I'm sure you don't need me to tell you the source of that??*) In fact the melancholy Miles (Paul Giamatti) seems to have done almost everything in his life by mistake, not the least the random act being acquiring his ebullient lifelong friend Jack as a room-mate at college many years ago. An odd couple indeed, they embark on a last bachelor holiday in the wine growing valleys of California before Jack settles down into respectability via a marriage into a wealthy (rather caricatured) Armenian family. But while the serious Miles, at a low point in his life, adjusting badly and sadly to divorce, with his novel on the point of being rejected yet again, and sick of his teaching job, is looking forward to an innocent week away from his demons, tasting wine and playing golf, Jack has other ideas and is intent on one (or indeed several) final flings before middle-aged respectability sets in. And he's determined Miles will share his fun.

Giamatti really is the shining star, with his hangdog Byzantine saint features, and puts in a performance of amazing subtlety, the life of quiet desperation of a man who feels he has made no mark on life. There's splendid ensemble playing from the other main players, Thomas Haden Church as Jack, like a big uncontrollable ageing puppy grabbing at all the juicy bones life will throw at him, Sandra Oh, sassy and sharp as Stephanie the wine waitress who falls under his spell. And Virginia Madsen's deep and complex Maya is a great foil to Giamatti, the two of them pulling off the amazing feat of talking about wine in those reverent terms that usually set you gagging, but actually sounding convincing. She even managed to keep her potentially sentimental soliloquy  'I love wine...' just on the right side of the tipping point for me. They are great together, particularly in the prickly, painful scene in Stephanie's house where they almost get it together but don't quite dare make the leap, oozing booze-dulled longing, while Jack & Stephanie are merrily bonking away in the next room. Another fine performance comes from Marylouise Burke, Miles' ditzy mother on whom the two buddies make a birthday call near the beginning of the film.

There are lots of laughs, many of them rueful, and some real unexpected slapstick, and the cinematography around the vineyards of California is swoonily beautiful, autumn-tinged and elegiac.

The end, which I feared would maybe sacrifice truth-to-character for audience pleasing, is satisfyingly open-ended. But whatever happens, Miles has stopped going sideways and is marching face on to his future. For all those of us who are more awkward Pinot Noir than effortless Cabernet, this film's a particularly rounded and mellow treat.

*'We've gone on holiday by mistake' is, of course, one of the many enduring quotes from that other odd-couple-away-from-home movie, Withnail and I.