'On the Rocks' is a lovely comfort film that lives up to predecessor

I'm relieved to say that Sofia Coppola's On the Rocks is an incredibly charming, deceptively sophisticated father-daughter comedy that is in its own way the perfect bookend to her breakout film 2003's Lost In Translation.  I say relieved because that film became such a beloved cultural touchstone that he re-teaming with her leading man Bill Murray would inevitably be compared to it unfairly.

The good news is that On the Rocks has an appeal that is all its own. While the prior film was a love letter to Japan, this film is an ode to the romance of a fully functional New York City. Her leading lady is a more mature and grounded Rashida Jones and Murray plays the polar opposite of his sad sack Bob Harris. Here he's a happy-go-lucky, fly-by-the-seat of his pants aging hipster (not unlike Murray itself).

The simple premise is outlined in all the trailers. Jones suspects that he husband (an understated, dialed down Marlon Wayans) may be cheating on her and she reluctantly enlists her dad -- an unapologetic and not entirely self aware misogynist -- to find out the truth.

Murray's character seizes on this 'adventure' with glee -- after all, it's an opportunity for him to spend more time with his daughter who he clearly adores but also to spout off unsolicited advice about the battle of the sexes. Jones has the harder, less showy role but she is an endlessly empathetic performer and her authenticity is perfectly suited to this material. 

And when she confronts Murray about his own hypocrisy, the film takes on more gravitas and allows the irascible comedy icon to deliver some of the most moving dramatic work of his career. Murray deserves to get a long overdue second Oscar nomination for his work here.

Coppola's eye for atmosphere and ear for dialogue keep the proceedings from ever feeling too sitcom-y. And while I can see some critics rolling their eyes at the comfortable privilege of its characters (there's a funny scene involving a run-in with police that is also an unintentional display of white privilege at its worse). But this doesn't have the claustrophobic feel that some say Woody Allen films have where it seems as though the New Yorkers never venture outside of a 10-block radius.

Also, not for nothing, but the film has two of the cutest child actors I've ever seen it.

As with many of Coppola's film -- with the distinct exception of her underrated remake of the genre thriller The Beguiled -- there is some intrigue that this movie is semi-autobiographical. In Lost in Translation, many presumed that the flaky film director husband of Scarlett Johansson's character was almost certainly based on her estranged husband director Spike Jonze.

In On the Rocks, the obvious question for film buffs and gossip mongers, is whether or not Murray is a facsimile of Coppola's famous director father -- Francis Coppola. Could be? Who cares. Whether it is or not the film is a lovely and loving exploration of the unique bond that a father and daughter share, even when the father can be a seriously flawed person.

Is the movie earth shattering? No. Neither was Lost In Translation. But it's graceful, witty and just the comfort film I needed.