Films about writers are about as effective as books about filmmaking – they’re only good to a certain extent, since there is an inherent challenge in cross-medium interference, whereby looking at one through the lens of the other can sometimes be a bit difficult. However, when they work, it can sometimes be extraordinary, especially when those involved in its creation strike the perfect balance between the primary themes and their specific manifestations, whether it be on the page or screen. This isn’t to suggest that Best Sellers, the charming comedic drama written by Anthony Grieco and directed by Lina Roessler, is a perfect film – if anything, it proves how there are inherent flaws in this mode of filmmaking that takes quite a while to fully become passable, by which point our interest may have waned. However, there is still a lot of value in this film, especially in how the director is so fervently passionate about the subject matter, the small narrative shortcomings being almost inconsequential to the overall piece, since there is a degree of earnest charm that propels the film and makes it such a wonderfully sweet and charming story of two wayward individuals trying to make sense of a world driven to the edge of insanity, and where they seem to be the only pair of level-headed individuals that exist within such a mad world. As a film, Best Sellers has its problems, but this doesn’t stop it from being a continuous barrage of hilarious moments that reveal gentle but necessary truths, not solely about the publishing industry, but the entire artistic process – and armed with blistering wit and a gifted cast, Roessler pulls together a lovely little film about finding friendship in the most unconventional places.

Best Sellers is undeniably a very simple film – it tells the story of a young woman who inherits her father’s prestigious publishing house, but finds herself unable to handle the pressures of running a business that is slowly failing, leading her to reach out to the one person who can save her, an author who single-handedly helped build up the business through the publication of one of his novels nearly half a century before, but has now retreated into a reclusive life, becoming a bitter and vitriolic curmudgeon who would sooner be sent off to war than pick up a pen again, but with the persuasion (and a couple of contractual obligations), he proves that even he isn’t as stubborn as he appears. It’s a scenario that we can easily see play out from the moment we read the premise and gauge the tone of the film from the opening few scenes – the trope of the resourceful young person and the misanthropic genius is a tale as old as time, and has been successfully used as the foundation for countless films, whether comedy or drama, for generations. Under Roessler’s direction, it doesn’t really do anything we haven’t seen before, nor does it aim to be entirely definitive of this kind of filmmaking. However, it never claimed to be, with Best Sellers working best if we look at it purely from the surface level, not necessarily becoming too invested with the small details, but instead looking at the overall picture, which is a much more enriching experience, since it removes the burden from this film from having to be anything other than an endearing comedy about two unlikely friends forming a connection after initially getting off to a rough start, which is a theme much more common than we’d expect, and which Best Sellers manages to vaguely overcome through the sheer nature of how incredibly likeable it is as a film.

The reason most will seek out this film (or at least give it a chance in the event that it crosses their path) is the two main actors, who we’d not expect to be as effective together as they actually were. One of the smart decisions made by the team behind Best Sellers was to capitalize on the presence of Aubrey Plaza and Michael Caine – the odd couple scenario is already guaranteed to draw attention, so having two radically different, but equally talented, actors occupying the central roles was a good choice, as was the constant attention being drawn to their chemistry. It’s unlikely that any of us would’ve predicted Caine and Plaza would be able to play off each other so well, but this film proves that not only are they talented actors in their own right, they’ve got a gift for interacting with other actors. So much of this film is built on their performances, almost to the point where we are actively rooting for the film to be good, just so that they aren’t wasted. Best Sellers may have its problems, but giving this duo a decent amount of good material is not one of them – and they rise to the occasion, taking on these roles and developing them after beyond what we’d expect from actors in such a simple film. Caine in particularly is mostly impressive – an actor of his stature can get away with turning in subpar work from time to time, but he’s constantly giving his best efforts, and in the role of a crotchety but brilliant writer, he is in his element, playing the role of Harris with the mischievous charisma that made him such an incredible and cherished actor in the first place. Considerably older in terms of physical appearance, but still possessing the same genuine spark of exciting danger, Caine alone makes the film worth watching, and while she is equally excellent, all Plaza needs to do is appear alongside him, which she does, holding her own against such an intimidating actor, and often stealing several scenes from him when she is given the chance to emote, which is much more regularly than we’d expect from an actress mostly defined by her steadfast stoicism on screen.

There’s a certain admirable virtue to the methods that Best Sellers takes in telling its story. It does have a relatively simple premise, so botching something like this would not be easy, especially with the level of talent involved in the film’s creation. However, there are some issues – primarily, this is a film driven by emotion more than it is logic, which would be an otherwise acceptable development had the film not been so invested in its characters. Roessler isn’t quite sure whether to make this a darkly comical satire on the publishing industry and the role the general public plays in shaping artistic narratives, or a tender-hearted and melancholy story of friendship and defying the odds. In many ways, there is an argument to be made that the film entails elements of both, with the problem being the cohesion between the two is almost non-existent, instead replaced by a genuinely puzzling series of moments in which we aren’t sure if a scene is being played for laughs or hysterics – and the actors (as good as they may be) are often struggling to figure this out for themselves, with their performances not being enough to elevate the film from being questionable in these moments. Mercifully, these are few and far between, and exist mainly on the fringes of what is a very promising story, which is made with a genuine compassion by a director who realizes that it is not enough to only have a strong story, there needs to be a degree of consistency between the actors, which is present, albeit in a more subdued form. When the film is willing to rise to the occasion, it comes very close to being brilliant – there are just too many moments of unnecessary elisions and loose ends that just don’t make sense, which dampens the entire experience and results in an unsettling amount of apathy on the part of the viewer.

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about Best Sellers, outside of the fact that it is a well-meaning comedy about the world of publishing, which is a niche subject that will be endearing to those who have an interest in the topic, and bewildering to those who can’t understand the value of centring an entire film around such a story. Undeniably a film that is bound to be divisive by virtue of its subject matter, Best Sellers is not going to appeal to everyone, but it is even more doubtful that anyone will turn away from this film having not found something of value. It is incredibly funny, and has an authentic sense of compassion for its characters, so much that we wholeheartedly fall in love with them, even when the film isn’t operating at its most effective. There’s a genuine joyfulness that comes through as the film progresses, which contrasts sharply with the deep sense of sadness that punctuates the latter half. It may be unnecessarily sentimental, but it never gets to the point of being outwardly manipulative, instead being a well-crafted dramatic comedy about the love of art, and how the ability to engage in any form of self-expression, regardless of medium, can be liberating. Perhaps this message is made less effective by the overwrought emotions that we find throughout it, but it never distracts from the lovable charms that reside right at the heart of the film, which makes Best Sellers a flawed but lovely film that may have offered more than it could feasibly provide, which we can excuse when we focus less on the small details, and more on the broader strokes.