For the record, it's English. I was born in Tilbury, Essex, made temporarily 
American citizen?"
The whole setup for this rambling yet amiable comedy is summed up in the first few minutes.
An unshaven and slightly disheveled Jason Segel dictates into a microphone his thoughts on how the universe works, and equates it with the plot of the Mel Gibson sci-fi thriller, Signs. He explains how seemingly unimportant and unrelated events can suddenly come together at the end to make sense, and that’s how Jeff sees life; there are signs all around that make no sense, yet if you follow them, somehow everything that is meant to be is going to come together.
True to the title, Jeff still lives at home with his mother, Susan Sarandon. He doesn’t have a job and rarely appears to be doing anything of importance other than looking for his destiny. “You ever feel like you were waiting forever to figure what your destiny is?” he asks. If Jeff has a problem, other than no job, no responsibilities and a view of life that is slightly askew, it’s that his family doesn’t get him.
His brother, Pat, played by Ed Helms, has problems of his own. The marriage is crumbling and it appears that his wife, Judy Greer, might be having an affair. Even Jeff’s mother, Sarandon, has her own issues. Someone at work is flirting with her by sending secret messages of admiration via the Instant Messaging system.
The film runs a scant eighty-three minutes, but that’s long enough for this twee, indie comedy of eccentric manners that, truthfully, has a few nice laughs but doesn’t really work – and is clearly not intended for a mainstream audience - yet ends satisfyingly enough, all the same. The way Jeff sees things, no matter what concludes this long and unusual day, somehow he will construe that the outcome is what destiny wants for him, and if none of this makes sense, then, obviously, this is not your kind of film.
Jeff, Who Lives at Home is yet another feature shot with a hand-held. The jerky visuals aren’t quite a nauseous as, say, the recent Project X, yet the quick close-ups, pull backs and odd zoom-ins come across more like nervous ticks than art. The shooting style resembles reality TV, and obviously this is a cheaper way of making films – there’s no time spent setting up and framing a shot; you just point the hand-held and shoot – but other than the economics, the jerky style feels forced. It works better on reality TV because the rough-edged style is designed for a small screen, but on a large cinematic canvass the short comings of the effect are obvious and unnecessary.
