Early in The Lost City, our heroine, best-selling author Loretta Sage (played with wondrous charm and aplomb by Sandra Bullock), is given a sequined jumpsuit to wear for the first event of her much-awaited book tour. The one-piece item is tacky and uncomfortable, which Loretta is quick to point out, but over the next hour, the jumpsuit turns into one of the stars of The Lost City. Commanded by Bullock, the jumpsuit ends up being the fulcrum of many more plot points than you’d expect, and completely erases thoughts you may have like “what author of any kind dresses like that?”. There are few like movie stars like Bullock, a bonafide brilliant actress with unmatched comic timing, who can take a gaudy piece of clothing and make a feature film length’s worth of material out of it.

The Lost City is a throwback in more ways than one. Its romantic comedy/action buddy picture hybrid format was a guaranteed moneymaker before the dominance of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The most specific description one can have of this movie’s genre, though, is to simply to call it “a Sandra Bullock movie”, a two-hander, male-female comedy in which chemistry bubbles within a preposterous plot that plays to the actors’ charms. By this definition, this is the first “Sandra Bullock movie” since 2009’s All About Steve, and far removed from classics like 2002’s Two Weeks Notice (with Hugh Grant), 2000’s Miss Congeniality (with Benjamin Bratt) or 1995’s While You Were Sleeping (with Bill Pullman and Peter Gallagher). The men in all those films are fine to good, but they can come and go; it was always Bullock who made these movies really click.

In The Lost City, it’s Channing Tatum who plays Alan, a hunky himbo whose’s chiseled torso and sculpted cheekbones were the visual inspiration for Loretta’s most famous character, Dash McMahon. It’s Alan’s face that appears on the cover of Loretta’s prolific line of steamy romance novels. Alan has a hangdog crush on Loretta, but she sees Alan as symbol for all that has gone wrong in her life. Still mourning the death of her husband, Loretta’s main interests lie in the anthropological study of indigenous cultures, dreaming of explorations within the lost cities of Latin America. Unfortunately, the closest she ever got was writing schlocky fiction that uses those explorations as a back drop. She is ready to quit, until she is kidnapped by Abigail Fairfax (Daniel Radcliffe), an eccentric billionaire convinced that Loretta can locate treasures hinted at in her novels. As she is whisked away to a remote island, Alan takes it upon himself to rescue her, looking to prove himself as a real hero and not just a cover model.

There is not much to The Lost City. Its stakes are low and its plot highly predictable. The exquisite Da’Vine Joy Randolph does good, funny work with a particularly hackneyed character (the black friend!). A cameo from Brad Pitt could have been truly hilarious if it wasn’t given away in the trailers. By the third act, there is a tinge of Sullivan’s Travels as Loretta learns that just because her most popular work is not de facto art, doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value. The film mostly excels at being the best “Sandra Bullock movie” in over a decade, and will warm any fans of hers in an absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder kind of way. Bullock, wielding her jump suit and her legendary wit, still has enough of the goods to bring it in the few moments when the movie asks her to be sincere. This has always been the key to her brilliance, that a Blanchett or Winslet-quality actor is always there – and can be utilized at any time – even if the films themselves aren’t prestige. This is far from Bullock’s best but there is an immense satisfaction to seeing her back in her element, taking a film from mediocrity to highly watchable.

 

Directed by Aaron Nee and Adam Nee