Robert De Niro is Ben, a 70-year-old retired widow who goes to work for an internet fashion business run by the brilliant young entrepreneur Jules (Anne Hathaway). He’s smart, wise and generous, and as her unlikely intern he eases her stress – helping her become more efficient in the office. Ultimately, he helps her with every aspect of her life – from childcare to marriage guidance.
As always with Meyers, it’s an aspirational film obsessively focused on wealthy people and how they live. There are lovingly presented interiors of huge homes and office spaces where everything is new and expensive. The sun-dappled streets of New York also look immaculate (Meyers has a distinctive lighting style). There’s not a hint of true urban living, just as there’s virtually no one who isn’t white, rich and successful. This was made for people of a certain age and with a certain value system.
It's slightly better than those two previous films, however, because the parts played by De Niro and Hathaway are well written, nicely observed and persuasively performed. But Rene Russo is oddly underused as the masseuse that Ben falls for. And a plot thread about Jules’ mother fizzles out completely after a silly interlude in which Ben and his colleagues break into her mother’s house to delete an e-mail sent to her in error. The other male characters are all awkward and self-consciously drawn. It’s as if an old person wanted to describe what young people are like. The strangest section comes in a hotel room scene (that seems to recall Lost in Translation) when Jules cries because she doesn’t want to be buried alone and the saintly Ben says she can be buried next to him and his former wife. It’s unclear whether this is meant to be touching or funny. I found it a little creepy.
Despite and because of all of its jarring superficiality, The Intern is fascinating. Nancy Meyers is a highly skilled filmmaker, so it’s a shame she gets distracted by fancy kitchens.
