Cake review: Jennifer Aniston's grey cardigan performance

Director: Daniel Barnz; Screenwriter: Patrick Tobin; Starring: Jennifer Aniston, Adriana Barraza, Anna Kendrick, Sam Worthington, Felicity Huffman, Chris Messina; Running time: 102 mins; Certificate: 15

Cake is a wry indie drama that hides a gooey centre beneath a brittle leading turn and Jennifer Aniston just about cracks it as a sufferer of chronic pain. This is a grey cardigan-clad performance with harsh lighting and no make-up which, arguably, isn't just a cry for help but a plea for awards attention. The Hollywood Foreign Press kindly obliged with a Golden Globe nomination and if Oscar wasn't that impressed, it may be because the film as a whole feels disingenuous.

Bitter sarcasm is one of the coping mechanisms that Claire (Aniston) depends on in the aftermath of a road accident, along with a pick 'n' mix of painkillers. Her Mexican maid Silvana (Adriana Barraza of Amores Perros) is also on hand to cook, clean and drive her around Los Angeles while madam lays fully reclined in the passenger seat to take the weight off her mangled spine. She may be incapacitated but Claire is still a force to be reckoned with, giving directions and even threatening to sue the therapist who leads her support group (Felicity Huffman in a broad, bespectacled turn).

One of their number (Anna Kendrick) has committed suicide and Claire is slipping deeper into a destructive, pill-induced stupor, but director Daniel Barnz (working from a cliché-ridden script by Patrick Tobin) is also in desperate need of a crutch. Kendrick gets the short end of that stick as Nina – reduced to a facsimile of the chirpy roles she is known for playing (e.g. Up in the Air) – only dropping in on Claire from beyond the grave whenever the drama threatens to flat-line.

Claire is given a vague sense of purpose by her delusions, nosing around in the lives of Nina's husband (a super-nice Sam Worthington) and young son - even retracing Nina's last steps. But she is never rewarded with an honest insight and the suggestion that she might follow Nina all the way to oblivion is made stark without ever feeling like a serious threat. Her growing attachment to Nina's family and her friendship with Silvana form a too-cosy safety net, and even her ex (Chris Messina) gets involved in a softly-softly intervention.

Barnz isn't above shameless manipulation, either, to put Claire back in touch with her feelings. The rom-com baggage that Aniston brings with her makes these darker moments more dramatic than they would otherwise have been, but overall it is a restrained performance. She makes a virtue of the stiff posture and generally bites down through the pain, both physical and emotional. When she does reach breaking point, it's a relief, but that is as much to do with the heavy hand of the director being lifted off her shoulders.

This is a grey cardigan-clad performance with harsh lighting and no make-up which, arguably, isn't just a cry for help but a plea for awards attention.

A sprinkling of droll humour doesn't do much to lighten the load because every quirk, like every twist of the plot feels designed for effect. Aniston plays her part with no frills, but she can't help but be dragged down by the surrounding artifice. For one thing, no-one in the real world could possibly have so many grey cardigans.