Forget popcorn; my favorite movie treat is buttery, delicious irony. Last Saturday was date night and, at first glance, Hallie Meyers-Shyer’s Home Again (which I can’t stop calling “Coming Home”), was custom-built for these rare occasions. It’s pure escapist fantasy, featuring a likeable movie star/protagonist (Reese Witherspoon) navigating a post-separation fling with a younger guy (Pico Alexander) against a series of cozy, sun-kissed backdrops, all created in Pier One’s image. Stop your eye-rolling and ditch the chick-flick checklist:deep (deep) down, Home Again contains a better movie about three idealistic millennial filmmakers obsessed with old Hollywood, and their run-ins with clueless development execs. Zippy tangents like these, plus “Halloween” Dean Cundey’s luscious, too-good-for-this-fluff cinematography, make the film appreciable on unexpected levels that belie its cotton candy marketing campaign. I kinda loved this movie, for all the wrong reasons. My wife hated it, for all the right ones. That’s irony, extra salt.