This year’s Oscar race has been inundated with so many left-field “populist” films (such as Avatar, District 9, Inglourious Basterds and perhaps even Star Trek) that there’s almost been a surfeit of conventionally “classy” Oscar films, but Thank You for Smoking and Juno director Jason Reitman delivers with a legitimate Best Picture contender, in the sublime social drama Up in the Air. With the help of a triumvirate of actors at different stages in their careers – one an established and bankable name, one a burgeoning actress that has proven herself in several quietly compelling roles, and one who is virtually an unknown – Jason Reitman proves himself a vital voice of his generation, and an Academy-grade writer and director.

Of any film vying for the coveted gong this year, none is more relevant to our present social issues than this; while other contenders The Hurt Locker and The Messenger both levied powerful statements about the war, there is of course a greater universality to Reitman’s film, which tackles the impact of the worldwide recession with a sobering level of potency, given that it is adapted from Walter Kim’s book that was written 9 years ago. Given the present unemployment levels, and the film’s truthful, yet poignant world view, it may well be able to stir up enough clout with audiences and influence those important Oscar voters.

Up in the Air revolves around Ryan Bingham (George Clooney), a man who spends his life flying around America and firing people for bosses that are too chicken to do it themselves. Bingham’s chiselled looks and exuberant charm makes him just the type of person you’d want delivering this news, and he attempts to sell the firing as a new door being opened, but of course, this doesn’t mean that the employees take it well, and swearing tirades, or more severe tantrums are quite routine outings for him. Still, the use of the present economic climate is largely a backdrop to what is at heart a classically designed character piece, of which Bingham is the centre; he lives out of a suitcase and has very few connections to his family or otherwise. He enjoys the anonymity of airports, and his life seems to revolve around his desperate desire to accumulate ten million air-miles, which only six people have done before.

However, two forces enter the film which challenge his values: Alex (Vera Farmiga), a frequent flyer who shares his fetishism for concierge keys and exclusive loyalty cards, and with whom he begins a casual relationship, and Natalie (Anna Kendrick), a young graduate who proposes a new, cheaper system of downsizing that would have Bingham firing people via webcam, but who is ultimately the film’s sense of innocent, perhaps optimistic humanity. This synopsis sets up for plenty of surprises, though, and those expecting clichéd character growth and predictable romantic drama will find themselves aghast, for Up in the Air is an uncommonly mature film that sidesteps dramatic conventions, while melding populist and artistic tastes well with a witty, character-driven script.

Why the film works so well is unequivocally down to Clooney, who ends one of his best and most productive years yet with the role that may well finally land him the Best Actor Oscar. His confident, thoroughly charming performance reinforces the steadfast self-assuredness of Bingham and his view of the world (that emotional attachments simply weigh you down). In lesser hands his character would seem distant and alienating, yet the sharp rhetoric and cutting one-liners (such as, when Kendrick’s character accuses him of being racist, declaring “I stereotype; it’s faster”), along with Clooney’s aesthetic appeal, makes him an unmistakably cool customer.

Clooney’s female compatriots fare well also; Farmigra’s screen time is fairly minimal, but she delivers another consistent turn as the female equivalent to Bingham, although there is more to her character than initially meets the eye. Still, she is outdone in the Best Supporting Actress possibilities by Kendrick, who has appeared virtually out of nowhere (aside from appearing in the Twilight films), and is without doubt a major find; she nails the more robotic, aspirational side to her character near the beginning, as well as her more compassionate and down-to-Earth facet later on. These characters provide sound challenge to Bingham’s views, yet Reitman balances things so brilliantly that we never get the impression that Bingham is dissatisfied with his way of life, nor that Natalie’s systematised and overly planned-out view of life is the right way to live. As a result, the film’s pleasantly ambiguous conclusion doesn’t feel overly manipulative while still being satisfying emotionally.

Through and through this is a film with a very astute sense of the now; from its light mockery of racial profiling at airports, to more serious concerns such as our increasingly technocentric world diluting what it means to be human, and, of course, the stress of losing your job, it is at once bitingly satirical and unerringly accurate in its look at a world enduring considerable toil, both spiritually and economically. Reitman’s use of non-actors for most of the people being fired (who were in fact people that had recently been laid off themselves) adds pungent gravitas to an already dramatically strong film, and right to its conclusion never escapes the sometimes deadly heartbreak of being made redundant.

The film’s ultimate message, that it is our friends and families that form our support structures and keep us going, is all-too timely, and just the message that audiences are going to want to hear in these difficult straits. It is in many ways a life-affirming film that is an eloquent reminder of the importance of togetherness (as is cemented by a brilliant and downright moving wedding scene featuring Danny McBride), and that while being laid off isn’t pretty, you will get through it with help.