AUSTIN 2011: SOMEWHERE WEST

Ian (Barrett Ogden) in Somewhere West.

Death be proud

By Don Simpson

Ian (Barrett Ogden) has opted to forgo further treatment for a stage four brain tumor in his occipital lobe. Instead, he embarks upon a meandering cross-country journey in search of a solitary place to die. He does not get very far in his journey before he picks up another aimless wanderer, Ryan (Judson Webb). Ian is reluctant to take on a travel companion, but Ryan essentially offers him no other options. Then, before he knows it, a couple of other broken characters form a caravan with Ian and Ryan with the singular mission of helping Ian find peace and happiness in his final days.

You might say that Somewhere West is essentially about euthanasia in slow motion. Ian refuses to allow his doctors to force him to receive treatment for such a hopeless case because they would only be extending his pain and discomfort. He would prefer to live his dying days naturally, immersed in some of the most beautiful landscapes the United States has to offer, including: Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, The Badlands, Black Hills, Devils Tower, Yellowstone, and Utah’s Salt Flats.

Somewhere West is writer-director David Marek’s Master of Fine Arts thesis project for the University of Colorado. I suspect that producing a film such as this one within the realm of academia is what permitted Malek the freedom to playfully experiment with the visuals of the film — doing so allows us to experience the world from Ian’s perspective. This technique lends Somewhere West a certain avant garde aesthetic along the lines of Gus Van Zant’s Gerry. And, from what I have read, Somewhere West originally clocked in at 134 minutes; but Marek has since whittled it down to a much more festival-friendly length of 103 minutes. At its current length, Somewhere West plays at a pensive and meditative pace (which may be way too slow for some viewers). I really cannot imagine how slowly the narrative would move if it were 31 minutes longer.

AUSTIN 2011: THE STAND UP

Zoe (Jonathan Hollis) in The Stand Up.

Miranda is dead. Boo who?

By Don Simpson

Zoe (Jonathan Sollis) is a stand up comedian who is desperately in love with his beautiful girlfriend, Miranda (Julia Dennis). Miranda dies suddenly, putting Zoe into a bitter and jaded state of depression. Then, after one year of being “Mr. Doom and Gloom”, Zoe finds himself forced to…ummm…teach kindergarten? That is right! But, luckily there is a super cute fellow kindergarten teacher, Veronica (Margarita Levieva). And, well, I think we all know exactly where the story goes from here.

But it is how it gets there that is pretty darn fantastic. Jonathan Sollis gives an excellent performance. Not only does he have a great rapport with the students, but he plays the formulaic role with utmost sincerity and naturalism. It also helps that Sollis is not your typical Hollywood hunk — he is more of an everyman. If The Stand Up were a big budget Hollywood film, Seth Rogen would have been cast as Zoe; and though I like Rogen, I guarantee that he would have amped the character up to 11. Sollis’ subdued approach to Zoe reveals great patience. He is also able to communicate a heck of lot of information to the audience merely with his eyes.

I typically fault writers and directors for making overtly formulaic films, but writer-director David Wexler’s The Stand Up is a rare exception to that rule. Heck, even “allergies” made my eyes mysteriously misty during the inevitable happy ending. Ugh! I really hate having my heartstrings tugged like that!

AUSTIN 2011: PILLOW



Ed Lowry and John Isner in Pillow.



Shhhh!

By Don Simpson

The cackling voice of an overbearing mother (voice by Mitchell Crisp) screams from an unseen upstairs bedroom that she wants a “respectable pillow.” The local general store’s pillow bin is bare, but when a feather falls from approaching storm clouds, the two hapless brothers (Ed Lowry and John Isner) get the bright idea to go fishing for an angel while a haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace” (by Michael Sutterfield) plays from their phonograph. That is where the angel (Kristen Stracener) comes in. Umm… Yeah, Pillow definitely is a surreal fantasy.

Co-writing/co-directing/co-producing brothers Joshua H. Miller and Miles B. Miller rely solely on their adept visual styling to convey the story because, well, the brothers in the film don’t talk much—heck, they don’t talk at all. Except for the screaming mother (who is only heard and never seen), Pillow is essentially a silent film. This stunningly photographed (by Gabe Mayhan) Southern Gothic tale set somewhere in the Southern Plains during the 1930s, recalls the stylistic sensibilities of the illustrious cinematographer Roger Deakins (who is probably best known for his work with the Coen Brothers—and his nine Oscar nominations).

AUSTIN 2011: HELL AND BACK AGAIN

A scene from Hell and Back Again.

Peace amongst the fire

By Don Simpson

It is the Summer of 2009. A decisive operation is launched by the United States to begin a new counter-insurgency strategy in Afghanistan. The U.S. Marines of Echo Company 2nd Battalion 8th Regiment are dropped deep behind enemy lines to seize a key objective.

Danfung Dennis’s Hell and Back Again opens with Echo Company preparing to take a Taliban stronghold. During their mission, they are ambushed and lose a man. Six months later — near the end of his deployment with Echo Company — Sergeant Nathan Harris is critically injured by a bone-shattering bullet to his hip. Dennis then follows the 25-year-old Harris back to his home in North Carolina, where he and his wife try to piece their lives back together again.

While in North Carolina, Hell and Back Again ponders if and how a war-ravaged Sergeant can readjust to the civilian world, where parking a car at Wal-Mart becomes more stressful and difficult than time spent behind enemy lines in Afghanistan. When Harris says, “I would rather be in Afghanistan where it’s simple,” we believe him because we can tell just by looking at him how mentally and physically painful his post-Afghanistan life has become.

Harris’ civilian life is a relentless cycle of pain, pills, and nausea. He wheels around town, perpetually over-medicated and depressed. This is the very same guy who initially joined the Marines because he always wanted to kill people. Even now, Harris plays with loaded guns as if they are part of a video game. He would return to Afghanistan in a heartbeat. Even his wife admits that Harris turns in to a different person sometimes. In fact, the man she married will never be returning home.

As if visualizing the post-traumatic flashbacks that Harris must be experiencing, Hell and Back Again seamlessly bounces from Harris’ present day experiences to his time spent in Afghanistan. Obviously not knowing that Harris was going to get injured in battle, Dennis initially tagged along with Echo Company as a full-immersion war documentary ala Restrepo and Armadillo. The war footage is brutal and ugly, but not nearly as scary as the noisy, crowded and fluorescent world waiting for Harris back in the United States.

Strangely enough, Dennis breaks from his cinéma vérité form at the end of Hell and Back Again in making the unlikely decision to visually reenact the scene of Harris’ injury while Harris recollects the event in voiceover. This is Hell and Back Again‘s one major flaw; otherwise, Dennis’ film is masterfully constructed documentary using witty metaphoric editing techniques that bring to mind Sergei Eisenstein’s Strike.

AUSTIN 2011: SOME GUY WHO KILLS PEOPLE

Ken (Kevin Corrigan) in Some Guy Who Kills People.

That Crazy Ken

     

By Don Simpson

Will Kevin Corrigan -- the indie film darling who was rivaled only by Steve Buscemi in his near-infinite number of quirky supporting roles clocked in during the 1990s -- ever live down "that ugly guy" (Walking and Talking) moniker? Probably not, because as Some Guy Who Kills People's Ken, Corrigan becomes one of the ugliest characters of them all.

A 34-year old, socially awkward, sad-sack loser -- oh, and former mental patient -- Ken works at a local ice cream parlor and lives with his disapproving mom (Karen Black). Otherwise, Ken just keeps to himself and sketches fantastical images of himself murdering the high school bullies who tortured him as a teenager, made him suicidal and essentially got him away in the loony bin for god knows how long.

One fateful day, Ken discovers that he has an 11-year-old daughter, Amy (Ariel Gade); he also stumbles upon a potential love interest, Stephanie (Lucy Davis). Add a sprinkling of some off-beat cops (Eric Price and Barry Bostwick), and you have a witty black comedy about some guy who is a mysterious serial killer. Some Guy Who Kills People might have a moral about bullies buried somewhere in the story, but does it really matter? Are you really going to watch a film titled Some Guy Who Kills People for its strong moral fiber? Oh, and keep any eye out for a humorously placed lens flare a little over an hour into the film. It is absolutely priceless.

AUSTIN 2011: AFTER FALL, WINTER

Sophie (Lizzie Brocheré) and Michael (Eric Schaeffer) in After Fall, Winter.

Feminine/Masculine

By Don Simpson

Sophie (Lizzie Brocheré) is a 25-year-old nurse who helps take care of terminally ill people in their final days. She also moonlights as a dominatrix. The two careers describe Sophie very well. She can be gentle and kind, yet she also enjoys control and power. In either scenario she displays the utmost strength and fortitude. Despite her natural beauty, Sophie has never had a boyfriend; perhaps because feeling love for someone would exude weakness.

Sophie is used to taking care of elderly people who are dying, but then she is assigned a 13-year-old gypsy girl — Anais (Marie Luneau) — who is dying of leukemia. Being around Anais changes Sophie and she begins to soften just enough to be receptive to a pushy American author, Michael (Eric Schaeffer). Michael has come to Paris to hide from his dying career and crippling amount of debt. Like some Americans, Michael does not possess adequate enough manners to say, "hello" (or "bonjour," in this case) before entering into a conversation with someone -- a fault Michael quickly corrects, in order to have a chance at winning Sophie. Oh, and Michael is addicted to S&M. He enjoys being dominated by women.

One would think that Sophia and Michael would be the perfect match and they do share a fiery — sometimes combustible — chemistry. Partially due to their language barrier, Michael often comes off as being arrogant and condescending — those are two traits that Sophie does not react well to. Despite being fairly frank about their likes and dislikes in the bedroom, Sophie and Michael opt to hide their love for S&M from each other. This, my friends, is their downfall…

It seems as though films that portray characters who do not abide by vanilla heterosexual behavior in favorable and sympathetic perspectives are a dime a dozen these days. All of these films share a very similar message — we need to be honest about our sexuality, first and foremost with our lovers. Writer-director Schaeffer’s After Fall, Winter is no different. That is not a bad thing. After Fall, Winter clearly communicates a message that needs to be pounded repeatedly through many puritanical Americans’ thick skulls.

What I enjoy most about After Fall, Winter — well, besides Brocheré (The Wedding Song) — is the way that Schaeffer toys with conventional gender roles. Sophie is mostly masculine. She is strong, blunt, and has sex when she wants it, but she shies away from intimate conversations. Michael is mostly feminine. He is a fragile romantic and quick to fall in love; he loves intimate conversations, and — depending on who you ask — he might be described as open and honest.

AUSTIN 2011: 6 MONTH RULE

Tyler (Blayne Weaver) in 6 Month Rule.

Trapped

By Don Simpson

The titular six month rule is one of many rules created and adhered to by Tyler (Blayne Weaver). It essentially states that after six months, anyone can recover from any relationship. Of course Tyler is a womanizing, commitment-phobic jerk who is unable (and unwilling) to maintain a relationship with any woman for more than six months. Heck, who needs a commitment when you have a sexy model, Wendy (Vanessa Branch), who waits around her apartment in lingerie hoping you will stop by for a “no strings attached” quickie? So, yes, of course Tyler would think relationships are not essential and easy to recover from!

But then fate rears its hand and determines that Tyler will meet Sophie (Natalie Morales) — who instead of being his “usual” type is his “real” type (ah, more warped Tyler logic to digest) — and he falls head over heels for her. This strange twist of fate occurs around the same time that Tyler’s best friend, Alan (Martin Starr), slips into a monotonic depression after a break-up with his long-term “mojito bitch” fiance, Claire (Jaime Pressly).

6 Month Rule is surprisingly formulaic for the first two acts, but then the final act surprisingly defies all conventional Hollywood rom-com/buddy movie tropes. In fact, if it was not for the final act — specifically the conclusion — 6 Month Rule would have never scored more than a four in my book. Sure the film has some interesting characters — notably Sophie — but it is really difficult not to be incredibly annoyed by Tyler. There is also a cartoonish “hipster singer-songwriter” character, Julian (Patrick J. Adams), who warrants nothing more than primal hatred and disgust. But then I eventually realized that all of the negative reactions I was having to the characters of Tyler and Julian were pre-planned by writer-director Blayne Weaver. These are characters whom we are not supposed to like. Sophie is the only sympathetic one; she is the most positively portrayed, the strongest and the most human. I also think that is why I respect Weaver’s third act so much; it reveals that everything I disliked about 6 Month Rule for the first two acts was purposefully designed that way. I fell into Weaver’s trap, and he certainly deserves some kudos for luring me in.