One of the few attractions of “Heights” and one of the better arguments for watching it is because of its well seasoned and talented ensemble cast of people like Thomas Lennon, James Marsden, and Jesse Bradford to name a few. On its rare moments “Heights” is an interesting character study, or at least strives to be, in which the more complex problems are brushed into the back. The gorgeous Elizabeth Banks is serene and fascinating as the confused Isabel who doesn’t want to get married yet feels inclined to even at the cost of a potentially prosperous job. Banks is a very good actress, and she gives a very good performance, even holding her own against Glenn Close who is fascinating as the egomaniacal actress who is attracted to Bradford’s character. Marsden’s sub-plot has the most interesting aspects, though, as a man who feels pressured to married Isabel because his culture demands of it. On rare flickers, it’s a watchable film.

I can’t say I particularly enjoyed “Heights” as a whole. I’d never really see it again, nor would I really suggest it. When I finished “Heights” I was just so annoyed because I knew that I’ve been here before. I’ve seen these characters, I’ve seen this story, and I’ve watched this film a thousand times before. “Heights” breaks no new ground and it really never seeks out to be one of a kind. It’s just another ensemble film with a cast of hip and not so hip actors, all of whom live in a city, and have to find themselves. Again. How many cities have these people anyway? I mean sure, it has interesting points, but which of these movies never does? How many times have I seen this before? It’s just more of the typical "self-absorbed twenty-something’s finding meaning and direction to their life” story a la “The Big Chill” sans the smug sense of being.

We saw this in “Sidewalks of New York”, we saw this in “Closer”, we saw this in “London”, and we see it here. Each new sub-plot is introduced with a title card spelling out the names for us, each character looks on solemnly and far off, each character is dead inside, and each character has to accomplish a life changing goal. As desperately as it tries to be, it’s not Altman-esque, it’s nowhere near that, because these characters are boring. One is a photographer, who’s about to marry a closeted homosexual, who is involved with an old lover and is being judged by his rabbi for marrying the photographer, who has a mom that sleeps with everyone, who wants to sleep with a young actor, who doesn’t want to sleep with her because he’s afraid his dignity will be relinquished, and on and on and on.

I couldn’t care less, regardless of how hard I tried to involve myself. Even the lure of the gorgeous Elizabeth Banks couldn’t lull me into the delusion that this was entertaining and insightful. In spite of director Terrio‘s attempts at artistic with pretentious split screens popping up every so often, and these metaphorical idealist plot elements thrown in for good measure, not to mention a pretty insulting and obvious plot twist, “Heights” can never be as good as it looks or sounds. We can’t be involved in their life because we know they’re not going to be better or worse than they are at that moment. Oh no, her husband is a homosexual, how will that middle class hot single supple fertile blonde girl ever survive and meet another man? It's impossible to even feel anything for them because in real life people like these just bounce back up, so there's no suspense, no tension, and no mystery. It’s just a retread of many other films to come along before it where pretty people have “problems” and because they’re pretty, we have to watch them solve them.

While it has its redeeming traits with occasionally interesting sub-plots, and a great cast, it's really just another vapid "art" film about self-involved pretty people solving ridiculous problems that are easily resolved with common sense, and the only reason why we should give a crap is because they're fun to look at, even if the story is recycled and bland.

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