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His values in life are simple: his body, his pad, his ride, his family, his church, his boys, his girls and his porn. This is what initially defines Jon Martello Jr. (affectionately known as Don Jon and played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt), but in reality, this list, or more specifically hierarchical pyramid, is in inverse order. Porn dictates his New Jersey life, and the others fill in the gaps in their own systematic way.
We know this because of the film’s opening images, which consist primarily of lurid videos and photos of women with a particular physique in particularly explicit poses. This is Gordon-Levitt’s directorial debut, and it is clear he has an ability to tell a story with both his actors and his camera. Typically, he has played lovesick and damaged characters: puppy-eyed in (500) Days of Summer and cancer-struck in 50/50. But here he is damaged differently, growling and vocalizing down an octave, emotionally disconnected and confidently seductive.
This movie is like a dark sitcom without the laugh track. For one thing, there are the limited amount of set pieces Jon cycles through on a daily basis: his gym, his church, his club and his apartment. There are the Sunday family dinners with dad (Tony Danza, “Who’s the Boss?”) throwing more F-Bombs than the quarterbacks he watches on his big screen, with mom (Glenne Headly, Mr. Holland’s Opus) mediating her two men and with a sister (Brie Larson, Short Term 12) glued to her phone.
Most of the time, that means Jon rides home from the club with a new lady to have sex, but mostly to complain about it. He confesses that watching porn is a much more enjoyable form of orgasm. The amount he masturbates to his Macbook varies each week. The laptop’s startup sound, he admits, turns him on, a gimmicky Pavlov’s dog used to signify another round of voyeuristic pleasure. These deeds are recited in a confessional to a blank priest, who comically issues arbitrary numbers of Hail Mary’s and Our Fathers for Jon’s differing amounts of sexual transgressions.
Then, one night Jon sees his 10 by the bar, a curvy figure in red named Barbara (Scarlett Johansson, Lost in Translation) who is wary of his short game and delays his impulsive, infatuated proceedings. They go on dinner dates and to the movie theater, and Jon disrupts his cyclical routine, rejuvenated with his latest attachment. She’s a romantic with dresses and lipsticks in candy colors, a trophy wife wannabe. She even gets Jon to go to night school to elevate himself out of the service industry.
The film premiered in Sundance with the title Don Jon’s Addiction, but its shortened name implies a hesitancy to associate itself with a deeply rooted systematic problem. Don Jon ducks away from the severe critical analysis that comes with an exposition of addiction, presenting a character who claims, “It’s not like I can’t stop,” when confronted with his habitual practice. The side effects of his disease do not plunge into the chilling internal Manhattan under which Michael Fassbender’s character in Shame hides and stares coldly. Jon suggests his addiction is more an obsession, but quitting cold turkey, even for his relationship’s future, is not as easy as he claims it is.
So what to make of Gordon-Levitt’s performance as Jon? He is not interested in promoting himself as a George Clooney do-it-all auteur whose primary goal comes in bold brushstrokes and promotional headshots. He triumphantly cares for the details, making ruffled hair and church tardiness the key minute details of his transformation. It is admirable. This is neither a giant leap into directing, nor a bold claim about pornography. It is a careful, pleasurable, sexy first step.
