The Only Living Boy in New York: while Marc Webb is telling a weak story of self-entitlement, he manages to capture a certain New York state of being (one of constant movement and transformation, where nothing is perennial and consequences in particular are fleeting) that rings true; it also exudes, fair or not, the impression of being literary. That’s in great part because Jeff Bridges (and, for a small moment, Bill Camp) reads the voiceovers beautifully; Bridges also gives a fine performance on-screen; Kate Beckinsale and Kiersey Clemons manage the best out of underwritten roles, both looking their respective parts. Callum Turner, as the slacker protagonist, projects the appropriate lack of energy and also has the right appearance. The film looks good, but it’s not particularly distinctive; good, varied soundtrack.