Ferrell plays Nick Halsey, an alcoholic who loses his job at the beginning of the film and, after an ill-advised revenge against his boss, Gary (Glenn Howerton), returns home to discover that his wife has left him. Not only that, she has locked him out of the house, frozen their joint bank account, and left all of his possessions out on the front lawn. Nick is understandably upset, and reacts in the defeated way that has apparently become his life’s standard recourse: he buys a lot of beer and camps out in his La-Z-Boy on the lawn for the night. In the morning, having exhausted his beer supply and unable to find his car keys, he borrows a bicycle from his twelve-year-old neighbor, Kenny Loftus (Christopher Jordan Wallace), and heads down to the convenience store for more beer while Kenny keeps an eye on his stuff.

Nick also befriends his new neighbor, Samantha (Rebecca Hall), a beautiful young photographer who has just moved by herself from New York, where her husband is wrapping things up at his company, planning to join her in Arizona as soon as possible. There are hints that their marriage is on the rocks, as when she tells Nick early on that her husband wants to name their unborn baby (with whom she is currently pregnant) Jack, after himself, a practice she thinks is “kind of ridiculous.” I found this especially ironic knowing that the excellent young actor who plays Kenny is in fact the son of the other Christopher Wallace, best known as The Notorious B.I.G. We also meet Nick’s friend and former Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor, Frank Garcia (Michael Pena), when he rescues Nick from arrest by virtue of the fact that Frank is himself a higher-ranking officer than the ones sent to Nick’s house on a complaint from his neighbors.

Frank allows Nick to remain living on his lawn for the next few days under the pretense that he is holding a yard sale; after that, if Nick can’t get himself together, Frank will have no choice but to take him to jail. Clearly, this is not a plot-driven film, but that is not to say it isn’t a very well-structured one; the yard sale provides the forward thrust for Nick’s attempt to get his life back on track, and subtle details pay off in unexpected ways throughout. It is to the great credit of first-time writer-director Dan Rush that the film never takes the easy or expected routes, and it also takes its time in developing its characters and their relationships, all of which are nuanced and believable. The approach is well-suited to the author of its source material, the great Raymond Carver, and the film finds a perfect balance between poignancy and humor, both of which are equally effective when employed.

Hidden Netflix Gems is a new feature designed to help readers answer that burning question, “What should I watch tonight?” It will be updated every Saturday before the sun goes down.

Jackie (Kate Dickie) is a single woman working as a closed-circuit surveillance operator in Glasgow, Scotland, where there are apparently cameras on nearly every street corner. Jackie’s rather creepy and mostly dull job is to watch the monitors and report any criminal acts or emergencies to the proper authorities. For a good portion of the film’s beginning, we are thrust into the tediousness of Jackie’s everyday life with little dialogue and no exposition, a refreshing departure from the average movie’s need to explain everything right away. Red Road has rightly been compared to the work of Michael Haneke in this regard, and the element of voyeurism at work here especially recalls two of his best films – Funny Games and Cache – but Arnold has more empathy for her characters and, seemingly, less nihilism in her heart than the great and revered Austrian filmmaker.

The inciting incident of Jackie’s story comes when she glimpses the face of Clyde (Tony Curran), a man who has apparently wronged her in the past, for which mysterious act he has been imprisoned until now. After doing a bit of research, Jackie finds that Clyde has been released early and is now living on the titular “Red Road,” which houses a preponderance of ex-cons looking for a second chance. The idea of redemption for past wrongs is, in fact, the central theme of the film, along with the necessity of moving forward in life, as beautifully illustrated in the final scene.

As the film progresses, though, Arnold wisely leaves the audience guessing as to the exact nature of its protagonists’ shared history. Jackie becomes immediately obsessed with Clyde, to the point that she neglects her duties on the job in order to stalk him from afar, leading to a violent attack she might have prevented if not preoccupied. At first, the red herring we are given to believe is that perhaps Clyde raped Jackie at some point, but as they begin to actually interact in person, he shows no signs of recognizing or remembering her. This central mystery unfolds perfectly, with just the right amount of intrigue to hold the audience in suspense without ever resorting to predictable cliches.

Red Road is truly a remarkable and complex film that eschews easy black-and-white morality in favor of a more nuanced and intelligent approach to its characters and story. When Clyde’s past offense is finally revealed, it is suitably awful and impossible for Jackie to ever completely forgive, yet he is never made out to be a simple villain; likewise, while Jackie has every right to be as self-destructively angry and vengeful as she is, we are never invited to view her as a saint, or her mission as a morally righteous one. The result is a bold and uncompromising film that may not be for everyone, but is nonetheless one of the very best debut features of the past decade.

Hidden Netflix Gems is a new feature designed to help readers answer that burning question, “What should I watch tonight?” It will be updated every Saturday before the sun goes down.

We’ve seen Vincent Chase down and out before following the aftermath of “Medellin,” but it was never quite as bad as this. The guy has been acting like a first-class jerk for weeks, and after making a scene at Sasha’s photo shoot that ends in him getting the boot, he comes home to discover that the guys have staged an intervention. Vince continues to deny that he even has a drug problem, but despite dumping that entire quart-sized bag of coke that Lloyd found down the sink as proof, his body language isn’t very convincing. The fact that he even had the nerve to then try and flip it on his friends was downright shameful, adding as he stormed out of the house, “I know you all need me, but I’ll call you if I need any of you.”

Why anyone continues to be his friend is beyond me, but he finally gets a taste of his own medicine when Eminem kicks the shit out of him after he insults the rapper at his own party. Granted, his bodyguards did most of the work, but ‘ol Marshall Mathers did get the first punch in, and it was a doozy of a right hook. And when the guys rush to the hospital to see how he’s doing, instead of being thankful that his friends haven’t abandoned him yet, he blames his behavior on them. Like I said, what a prick, and I’m glad the police officer found that cocaine he was carrying. Now he can go spend some time in federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison and think about how he managed to fuck up a good thing – and all because of a porn star.

Meanwhile, Ari’s marital troubles continue to get worse as he tries to plan a surprise birthday for his wife. The only problem is that no one wants to come and risk being stuck in the middle of all the drama, so when Mrs. Ari’s sister, Marcy, comes to town to console her, Ari puts aside their long-running hatred for one another in order to ask for her help with party. Marcy agrees, only after Ari promises to clear all her debt, but when the time for the big surprise arrives, Mrs. Ari isn’t there to experience it. Instead, she calls Ari on the phone to tell him that she needs a break – something that’s been coming this whole season. I still don’t know why she’s acting this way, because it’s not like Ari ever did anything bad to her or the kids, but I guess the writers thought that Ari was due for his own personal tragedy of sorts since he’s been a little too successful as of late.

It’s totally unwarranted, of course, but I can’t imagine they won’t fix everything by the time the series comes to a close next year. And if they really do only plan on doing six episodes, they’re going to need to work fast. That means that Turtle will find success as an entrepreneur (and after only one year of business school!), Drama will finally be the star of his own show (but only in cartoon form), Eric will finally marry Sloan (though probably at the risk of his job), Ari will win back his wife (and possibly leave the agency to become a family man), and Vince will emerge from rehab sober and ready to work. (I’d include a parenthetical for him as well if I didn’t think the big Oscar storyline wasn’t being saved for the proposed movie.) It’s probably a little too much of a fairytale ending, but for a series that was built on that very premise, can it really end any other way?

Apparently, Amanda was just interested in teaming up with Ari to bring an NFL team to Los Angeles, but now that opportunity is gone for good. It definitely wasn’t Ari’s proudest moment, but I’m sure he’ll survive. Of course, the suggestion that Amanda would suddenly be willing to work with Ari after threatening to ruin him only a few episodes ago seems ludicrous in and of itself. I mean, why the sudden change of heart? It’s not like they were ever friends, and Amanda clearly still isn’t over Ari’s sabotage of the Warner Brothers gig that ultimately went to Dana Gordon.

Simply put, it would never happen, though I am warming up to the idea of Drama doing “Johnny’s Bananas.” I still feel like Drama takes the craft of acting a little too seriously to consider voicing a character on an animated show, but after a series of conversations with Eric’s secretary, Jenny – where we not only learned that the job would only take an hour or two a week to record, but that his condo has been foreclosed – it makes sense that Drama would finally decide to do the show, even if he is selling out as a result. It’s just a shame he didn’t come to that conclusion a little earlier, because it looks like Phil put a lot of effort in creating that presentation.

And speaking of indecision, the Avion tequila soap opera rolls along as Turtle hits yet another road block when Carlos lectures him about being left in the dark about the Mark Cuban situation. He wants Turtle to sign a nondisclosure agreement to prevent him from talking to anyone about the company until Carlos decides what he wants. But that’s exactly the problem: Carlos doesn’t seem to know what he wants. Though Turtle has lined up a reliable investor in Cuban – who’s not only willing to front the $5 million to build the factory, but also has plenty of ideas about how to take it to the next level – Carlos gets overly protective, insisting he set his own terms. Instead, Cuban tells Carlos that he’s just going to sidestep him and buy the business outright, and since it’s technically not Carlos’ company (something about an older brother), he can’t do anything about it. I don’t know why Turtle’s upset, though. Cuban will probably still hook him up with some sort of finder’s fee (or even keep him on board as a business partner) and it’s not like he didn’t do his best to help Carlos make Avion popular. If anything, he almost did his job a little too well.

Meanwhile, Vince’s cocaine-fueled bender continues to affect his relationship with Eric after he’s unable to promise Sasha a part in “Airwalkers,” leading Vince to go straight to the source instead. Surprisingly, new director Peter Berg doesn’t take much convincing, and he casts her in a role that could grow in future sequels. But when Vince tells Sasha the good news, he doesn’t get the response he was hoping for. Although she’s understandably excited, she still plans to do the adult film, despite what she may or may not have promised Vince. And worse yet, one of the guys in the gangbang is her ex-fiancé. So what does Vince do? He tells her that he loves her, of course, no doubt in a last-ditch plea for her not to do the movie. Watching his girlfriend having sex with strangers will be the least of his worries, though, after Lloyd discovered his hidden stash in the house. I’ve heard of dime bags before, but Vince was storing his blow in a gallon-sized freezer bag. That’s not a drug problem – it’s a crisis.

And while Vince is busy trying to persuade Sasha not to do the porno by getting her a part in his new movie, Eric is desperately trying to keep Vince attached to said movie. That’s because the studio wants Vince to take a drug test, and he flat out refuses, claiming that he’s never been in any kind of trouble that would suggest he should need to be tested. Thankfully, Billy finally confesses to Eric that he did witness Vince doing some coke with Scotty Lavin at that party, and after ripping Scotty a new one right in front of a prospective client, he then confronts Vince about his drug use. But instead of apologizing to Eric for lying, Vince just acts like a giant prick, warning Eric to stay out of his personal business and practically demanding that he find Sasha a part in “Airwalker” or else.

Personally, this behavior still seems a bit out of character for Vince (especially after everything he’s already gone through following the “Medellin” debacle), but he’s still attached to the movie when it’s all said and done. Unfortunately, Randall Wallace is not, who chose to walk away from the project after the studio bent to Vince’s will. The real question isn’t whether they’ll be able to find a new director, though, but just how in the world Vince is going to bounce back a second time when Hollywood becomes privy to this scandalous behavior.

It certainly can’t end well for him, but at least Ari is trying to mend his broken relationships as he experiences trouble on both home fronts. Not only has Ari promised a “kinder, gentler” workplace to his current staff just as old employees begin to come out of the woodwork to sue him, but Mrs. Ari feels embarrassed by the entire situation, going so far as to call an emergency therapy session to try and work out their marital problems one last time. Ari would probably tell you that there’s nothing wrong with his marriage, but Mrs. Ari wants some changes (including a no-Blackberrys-in-the-house rule and no more broken promises) lest she have to reevaluate their relationship. Though Ari seems a little hurt by the ultimatum, he eventually agrees, if only because he’s already late for an important meeting with Mark Cuban.

Then again, it’s probably a good thing that he was, or Turtle would have never run into Cuban while waiting to speak with Ari at his office. Turtle’s in desperate need of an investor for the tequila business, because although the demand is high after Vince’s impromptu Twitter blitz of Avion, Carlos can’t fill the order. He says that they need $5 million just to build the kind of factory needed to produce that much tequila in that amount of time, but what exactly did he expect with Vince promoting it? He claims that they weren’t planning to expand the business until 2013, so why bother with any kind of marketing campaign if you’re not ready to supply the product? If these guys are as legit as they’re supposed to seem, they don’t know a thing about running a business. Thankfully, Turtle has his fancy degree from UCLA, and with a big investor like Cuban on board, it might just be enough to get Avion off the ground.

Meanwhile, Drama is still stuck in neutral after reconfirming to Eric that he has no interest in “Johnny’s Bananas,” despite the fact that the studio wants to go ahead with the project. In fact, the studio is so convinced that it could be the next “The Simpsons” that Phil is willing to recast the part if Drama passes. But as Eric is quick to inform him, that’s not going to happen as long as he owns the show. Of course, I’d be willing to bet that Billy would sell him out if it meant a second chance to make it in Hollywood, but it’s not going to matter, because Drama is going to do the show eventually, no matter how stupid it sounds. And I’m sorry, but “Johnny’s Bananas” would never, and could never, be as good as “The Simpsons.” Heck, it should consider itself lucky just to be mentioned in the same sentence as “The Simpsons,” because it’s one of the dumbest ideas I’ve ever heard. That’s not the first time I’ve said that, and it won’t be the last.