Jonah Hill goes dark. Jonah Hill, Marisa Tomei and John C. Reilly in “Cyrus” Photo: Fox Searchlight Jonah Hill has been a reliable comic presence in films for half a dozen years now. But in his Judd Apatow movies — especially “Superbad” — we began to see that he was capable of more than just roly-poly second-banana parts. So it’s been a pleasure to discover, in “Get Him to the Greek,” that Hill also has the makings of a convincing romantic lead; and now, in “Cyrus,” to find him at home in the darkly devious role of an overgrown mama’s boy from Hell. The picture is funny, but it has stalker-flick overtones that are unsettling, and the deft assurance with which Hill navigates its ambiguous narrative is impressive. The movie opens on John (John C. Reilly), an L.A. film editor and emotional basket case. He lives alone in a dreary apartment and has just learned from his ex-wife Jamie (Catherine Keener) that she’s getting married again. Jamie is still John’s best friend; she wants him to find a new love of his own, and she invites him to a party where there’ll be lots of possibilities. John gets loaded, though, and his come-ons to various women in attendance grow increasingly pathetic. (“I’m in a tailspin,” he tells one. “I have to make a phone call,” she says.) Then, however, he’s approached by Molly (Marisa Tomei), who’s been watching him and thinks he’s sweet. They go back to his place together. They go to bed. (“You’re a sex angel,” he says gratefully.) Come the dawn, though, she’s gone — although she has left behind an encouraging note. She returns the next night, and they have sex again — in fact, they’re falling in love. But once more she has to leave. “Are you a secret agent or something?” John asks. Molly is actually a single mom. And when John follows her back to her own apartment, he discovers that she lives with her son, Cyrus (Hill), who’s 21 years old, but still neurotically possessive about Molly, and, as we learn, dedicated to repelling any suitors. At first, Cyrus is oddly welcoming. (“It’s good to finally have a new dad,” he tells John.) Behind John’s back, though, this strange man-child is scheming to snuff out his mother’s kindling love affair. John is a little perplexed by Molly’s relationship with her son. They sing in the bathroom together while Molly’s taking a shower. They roll around in the park like a couple of tussling kids. Can John somehow insert himself between these codependent characters and win Molly for his own? Not if Cyrus has anything to say about it. Mumblecore kings Jay and Mark Duplass (“Baghead”) wrote and co-directed the movie, as is their usual practice. This time, though, they’ve been given a budget big enough to hire well-known actors. The picture still has the brothers’ familiar indie flourishes — sudden shaky camera zooms and an improvisational looseness — but the lead performers bring a professional heft to the picture that’s new to the Duplass oeuvre. The dialogue is sharply funny. (As his battle with Cyrus spins out of control, John hisses, “Do you know what it feels like to be knocked unconscious?”) But there are also moments that suggest the story could go in a chillier direction. (When John and Molly are about to have sex in the living room, they suddenly notice Cyrus sitting in the shadows, watching them. “Can I have a hug?” he asks.) For its first half, the film’s atmospheric uncertainty keeps us wondering which way it will go. The movie isn’t entirely successful — it’s sometimes too loose — but it’s an unusual ride. And like Cyrus, we keep holding on. Check out everything we’ve got on “Cyrus.” For breaking news, celebrity columns, humor and more — updated around the clock — visit MTVMoviesBlog.com .
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