Madison West grad Marc Webb takes Manhattan | Movies

Characters in Madison West High School graduate Marc Webb’s “The Only Living Boy in New York” complain at length that “New York has lost its soul.” They bemoan that Manhattan has lost its edge and become a playground for the super-rich, where rock clubs have been turned into spinning studios and mom-and-pop stores have become upscale boutiques. (Never mind that the characters are super-rich themselves.)

But at least they still make New York movies like they used to. “Only Living Boy” is another literate, sharply observed tale of Manhattanites entangled in love, with each other and with their city. Although Allan Loeb’s screenplay contains some hard-to-swallow plot turns, a strong cast carries it past the eye rolls.

Callum Turner plays Thomas Webb, a confident but aimless twentysomething who moves into an apartment on the Lower East Side to get as far away from his wealthy parents (Pierce Brosnan and Cynthia Nixon) on the Upper West Side. There he meets W.F. Gerald (Jeff Bridges), a strange neighbor fond of booze, going barefoot around the apartment, and dispensing romantic advice. He takes a shine to Thomas, giving him tips on dealing with sort-of girlfriend Mimi (Kiersey Clemons).

Then Thomas sees his dad canoodling with a beautiful woman, Johanna (Kate Beckinsale). Thomas shadows her and, in the ultimate case of rebellion against his father, decides to seduce her himself.

This multi-generational love triangle plays out against a sophisticated world of dinner parties and fancy restaurants, and Webb captures the beauty and chilliness of this privileged life. It’s interesting to contrast “Only Living Boy” with his other film of 2017, “Gifted.” That film was compassionate and loose, shot in warm yellows and oranges. This film is cool and sleek, with everyone seeming to wear a different and expensive-looking shade of blue or gray.

Loeb is a prolific screenwriter who has gone from searing drama (“Things We Lost in the Fire”) to goofy comedy (“Here Comes The Boom.”) His dialogue here is smart and almost poetic at times, especially the voiceovers from Bridges’ character that tie the film’s chapters together. There’s one scene at a wedding reception, between two characters we don’t know, where a third character (Bill Camp) stands up to deliver a drunken toast. We don’t know who he is here, but the writing’s so good we don’t mind.

The cast is terrific, with Turner evoking the directness and confidence of a young Richard Gere — he’s no Woody Allen-esque neurotic nebbish. Bridges gets all the best lines as the philosophical neighbor, and he rolls them around in his mouth like they were caramels. Nixon, so wonderful in “A Quiet Passion,” is tragically underused here. But Brosnan, often relegated to playing villains now in mainstream movies, seems to relish the chance to play a more complex character, his secrets hiding other secrets.

As I said, there’s a third-act plot twist that blows “Only Living Boy” significantly off-course, but the film does manage to right itself. Webb brings the film to an end in a brisk 88 minutes. This new New York is an intriguing place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to overstay your welcome.