generationdiy

Funny Ha Ha

by James McNally on June 21, 2008

in Film Festivals

Funny Ha Ha

Funny Ha Ha (2002, Director: Andrew Bujalski): Perhaps the first of the films later lumped together as “mumble­core,” Funny Ha Ha was written and dir­ected by 27-year-old Harvard film graduate Andrew Bujalski. Made on a shoes­tring budget with non-professional actors, it toured film fest­ivals for almost three years before get­ting a lim­ited the­at­rical release in 2005. I believe this is the first time the film has screened the­at­ric­ally in Toronto.

Marnie (Kate Dollenmayer) is a recent col­lege graduate still living in the stu­dent ghetto near her school. Though she’s no longer a stu­dent, she seems unable to move on to the next phase of her life. She still hangs around with her col­lege friends, partying and working temp jobs. Her obses­sion with her friend Alex is obvious to everyone, des­pite the fact that he’s already in a ser­ious rela­tion­ship. Nonetheless, when she hears Alex has broken up with his girl­friend, she’s reluctant to make her feel­ings known, des­pite the urgings of all her friends, including Alex’s sister. She meets another guy, Mitchell (Bujalski), at her temping job and he awk­wardly asks her out. Then her friend Rachel’s boy­friend Dave kisses her drunk­enly after a party. None of these rela­tion­ships are going the way she wants. She quits the temping job and finds a better one as a research assistant. Alex begins hanging out with her and flirting ambigu­ously. Then sud­denly she finds out he and his girl­friend have not only reunited, but eloped and gotten mar­ried. But he still shows up drunk late on the night of her birthday. “Marriage is com­plic­ated,” he says.

With pro­spects like these, Marnie clearly needs to get away from these people and maybe even this town, and by the end, we get an ink­ling that that’s what is going to happen. But for about 90% of the film’s run­ning time, we float through Marnie’s life just the way she has. What saves it from being com­pletely tedious is Dollenmayer’s open and pretty face, and her gradu­ally increasing determ­in­a­tion to move on with her life.

Funny Ha Ha is extremely prim­itive, with no music and no external lighting. As my col­league Bob Turnbull expressed, it’s almost a Dogme 95 film. But there’s plenty of humour, of both the goof­ball and the cringe­worthy vari­eties, and a sym­path­etic prot­ag­onist. When the film ends rather abruptly, I wanted to know what was going to happen to Marnie, and that means that Bujalski has hooked me.

NOTE: I was delighted to find out that Kate Dollenmayer is actu­ally an anim­ator whose credits include work on Richard Linklater’s Waking Life (2001).

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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Nights and Weekends

Nights and Weekends (2008, Directors: Joe Swanberg and Greta Gerwig): A fit­ting opening night film for the Toronto leg of the Generation DIY mini-fest, Nights and Weekends is co-director Joe Swanberg’s fourth fea­ture film in four years (in addi­tion to two series of online shorts), and he’s still just 26. Perhaps no other dir­ector better exem­pli­fies the DIY spirit right now. This par­tic­ular film grew out of a close col­lab­or­a­tion with Greta Gerwig, who has acted in most of Swanberg’s pre­vious films. Their real-life friend­ship informs and adds some ten­sion to this story of a long-distance relationship.

James lives in Chicago while his girl­friend Mattie lives in New York. We eaves­drop on their hur­ried love­making and awk­ward con­ver­sa­tions in both cities and then quickly it’s a year later and they’ve broken up. The last half of the film deals with their unre­solved feel­ings as they both want to make it work but know that it can’t. For anyone who’s ever been involved in a long-distance romance, much of this will ring true. Physical dis­tance cre­ates both intense longing and emo­tional blind spots. The film begins with them tearing each other’s clothes off at the begin­ning of a rare weekend together. But once that’s done, they spend the rest of the time trying not to deal with their impending sep­ar­a­tion. Though they promise to come up with a plan to be together, it never takes shape. The film is full of awk­ward silences and glances, as these inar­tic­u­late char­ac­ters struggle to hold onto what they have. There is a ten­sion throughout the film that gradu­ally slackens into sad­ness, and in another sex scene near the end of the film that bookends the opening scene, both char­ac­ters can’t keep their fatalism at bay long enough to con­sum­mate their desire. It’s an emo­tion­ally affecting scene, even in the absence of any par­tic­u­larly well-written dialogue.

According to Swanberg and Gerwig, a lot of the dia­logue was impro­vised, and credit must be given to the skillful editing (also by Swanberg) for shaping this into a film with an emo­tional arc. Of all the “mumble­core” dir­ectors, I think Swanberg is the least con­cerned with film­making “flour­ishes”. His films are the least “arty” in my opinion. Instead he seems to aim for emo­tional authen­ti­city and in this case, he has the per­fect col­lab­or­ator. Gerwig is the better actor (some­thing Swanberg freely admits), and her mood changes effect­ively com­mu­nicate her con­fu­sion and frus­tra­tion in every scene. It doesn’t hurt that the camera adores her. Even the harsh­ness of digital video cannot dim her nat­ural beauty.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t men­tion the intensely intimate sex scenes in the film. Though we never see James and Mattie actu­ally having sex, there is plenty of nudity and fore­play on screen. When Hollywood films show people in sexual situ­ations, you’re keenly aware that these are actors who prob­ably don’t know each other very well, but here we have two real-life friends, co-writers and co-directors of the film, not only emo­tion­ally but phys­ic­ally naked in front of each other and the audi­ence. It’s raw and brave and awk­ward all at the same time. I couldn’t help but wonder what Swanberg’s wife thought of all of this, though he’s fea­tured this sort of matter-of-fact sexu­ality in all of his films.

In my review of his film LOL, I wondered (per­haps a little unfairly) what it would be like for Swanberg to work with “real” actors, but I think Gerwig is the real thing. Still, I’d like to see him stay behind the camera (prefer­ably a 35mm film camera) and work with a fully-formed script next time. That being said, and although this film feels unpol­ished and slightly unfin­ished, Nights and Weekends con­tains moments of genuine emo­tional power.

Here is the Q&A with dir­ectors Joe Swanberg and Greta Gerwig from after the screening (and that’s Canada AM’s film critic Richard Crouse asking the first few questions) :

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Duration: 25:49

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

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Generation DIY

Ron Mann and Gary Topp’s Filmswelike is presenting “Generation DIY” from June 19–22 at the Bloor Cinema. This is per­haps the biggest col­lec­tion of “mumble­core” films ever screened together in Toronto and I’m ser­i­ously excited about seeing a bunch of these, some for the second time (and all for the first time on a big screen). This is a no-brainer if you want to see what’s been hap­pening in the American indie film scene over the past few years. Here’s the jam-packed lineup:

  • Nights and Weekends (dir. Joe Swanberg and Greta Gerwig) (review)
  • Quiet City (dir. Aaron Katz) (review)
  • LOL (dir. Joe Swanberg) (review)
  • Frownland (dir. Ronald Bronstein)
  • Funny Ha Ha (dir. Andrew Bujalski) (review)
  • Dance Party USA (dir. Aaron Katz) (review)
  • Four Eyed Monsters (dir. Aron Crumley and Susan Buice)
  • A Simple Midwest Story (dir. Blake Eckard)
  • Orphans (dir. Ry Russo-Young)
  • The Guatemalan Handshake (dir. Todd Rohal) (review)
  • The Death of Indie Rock (dir. Rob Fitl)
  • Backroad Blues (dir. Blake Eckard)
  • Mutual Appreciation (dir. Andew Bujalski)

Festival passes are just $25. Even better is that the mini-fest is trav­el­ling to Winnipeg, Edmonton and Vancouver after its stop here.

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Quiet City/Dance Party USA

In her gen­er­ally neg­ative appraisal of the “mumble­core” move­ment in the November/December 2007 issue of Film Comment, Amy Taubin reserves praise for the two fea­tures written and dir­ected by Aaron Katz, calling him a “breakout talent” and praising both the “lyric beauty” of his cine­ma­to­graphy (although acknow­ledging he used dif­ferent DPs for each film) and his “expressive” sound design. I’d seen the posters for both films, and some stills and the trailer for Quiet City, and was intrigued. Though I’m still a mumble­core novice, I’ve made some assump­tions of my own, and before even seeing Katz’s films, thought he had a much more developed visual sense than some of the others. With pre­con­cep­tions in mind, I sat down to watch both films this weekend, thanks to the gor­geous DVD package from Benten Films, avail­able January 29, 2008. In addi­tion to both films, the DVD package fea­tures dir­ector and cast com­ment­aries on both films, altern­ative and extended scenes, an early short film, footage from Quiet City’s New York premiere, and more. Benten are quickly becoming the Criterion of the indie film world.

Quiet City (2007, Director: Aaron Katz): In its brief 78 minutes, Quiet City was able to accom­plish some­thing quite remark­able. By the end of the film, I was begin­ning to care about a couple of people whom I almost dis­missed at the start. Though the script still feels a bit under­cooked in places, and the sound mix often had me straining to hear what was being said, the editing and acting actu­ally felt nat­ural so that I jour­neyed with the char­ac­ters from awk­ward­ness to curi­osity to empathy to genuine connection.

The story arc is modest, to say the least, and I wouldn’t con­sider my plot sum­mary to be spoiling any­thing, but just in case, con­sider this a spoiler alert and skip to next para­graph if you like. Jamie (Erin Fisher) arrives in Brooklyn toward evening. At the subway stop, she asks stranger Charlie (Cris Lankenau) dir­ec­tions to a diner where she’s sup­posed to meet her friend Samantha. When Samantha fails to show, Charlie and her spend the rest of the evening and the next day together. For the first ten minutes, their twentyso­mething slacker (lack of) vocab­u­lary was driving me nuts, with each “like” hit­ting my eardrums like a sharpened stick. But it’s remark­able how their dia­logue improves as their nervous­ness dis­sip­ates, and before long, they’re teasing each other good-naturedly. There’s a def­inite attrac­tion between them, but each is careful not to spoil it by making a wrong move. The film really catches fire as the two attend a gal­lery event the next evening. At a party after­ward, they sep­arate, Charlie chat­ting ami­ably with strangers about nothing much, and Jamie having a ser­ious con­ver­sa­tion with her friend Robin about Robin’s fear of intimacy. In her friend’s halting speech, com­plete with more adoles­cent “likes,” we see how far Jamie has moved in just a short time. When they leave the party together, it’s as if they were meant to be together, so dif­ferent do they seem from anyone else they’ve encountered. They share a lovely chaste moment of affec­tion on the subway and the film ends.

Katz’s achieve­ment is to accom­plish this in such a short space of time, and with no grand speeches or declar­a­tions of love. The plot sounds very sim­ilar to Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise, a film I’ve not actu­ally seen, but knowing Linklater, that film is bound to be more lofty and chatty and intel­lec­tual than this one. And per­haps less real for that reason. As a mar­ried man in my 40s, I can cringe at some of the things these char­ac­ters say, but it’s only because they’re acting within their lim­it­a­tions. Their awk­ward­ness and lack of dir­ec­tion are genuine, as is their des­perate desire to hide them beneath a layer of cool.

The cine­ma­to­graphy was gen­er­ally excel­lent, bathing Brooklyn in a warm and golden light. There were a few occa­sions where a tripod would have been wel­come, though, and a few of the camera set ups seemed a little slap­dash, but the feeling of the images was per­fect. As was the music, which was used spar­ingly and to good emo­tional effect.

I’m quite sure that Quiet City will reward repeat view­ings, and I’m looking for­ward to listening to the cast and dir­ector com­ment­aries to see how Katz man­aged to turn my feel­ings around so quickly. It seems a little like magic.

Quiet City poster

7/10(7/10)


Dance Party USA (2006, Director: Aaron Katz): Although released in 2006, this film was actu­ally shot in 2004, and so seeing it after Quiet City, I expected to notice to be a huge leap for­ward in Katz’s devel­op­ment as a dir­ector. Instead, I found myself enjoying the earlier film even more. Similar in struc­ture and even in theme, there is a pretty big dif­fer­ence in tone and in at least one of the char­ac­ters. I found Dance Party USA more direct and the script was much tighter.

Set among a group of high school stu­dents in Portland, the film shares the basic arc of Quiet City. Over the course of a day or two, a male prot­ag­onist reaches out to a some­what mys­ter­ious woman and the film ends with them reaching a sweet and rather tent­ative con­nec­tion. In the case of Dance Party USA, our prot­ag­onist is the teen­aged Lothario Gus, first seen brag­ging about the sexual con­quest of an underage girl to his vacuous friend Bill. Played by Cole Pennsinger, Gus is a guy on the brink of leaving his adoles­cent per­sona behind him. His Beavis and Butthead exchanges with Bill are leaving him unful­filled, and he’s looking for a more real con­nec­tion than the “hook-ups” he seems able to achieve with ease. One night at a Fourth of July house party, he meets Jessica, sit­ting alone out­side. She’s a friend of his ex, and she’s aware of his repu­ta­tion. But he sits down and, almost like he’s in a con­fes­sion booth, he begins to tell her about some­thing he’s done in the recent past, some­thing that was very wrong. Somehow, he feels he can trust her, and after sit­ting silently through his con­fes­sion, she lights two spark­lers and hands him one. “Do you want to go some­where?” she asks. Each sees some­thing in the other that no one else has yet seen, and each wants to be that some­thing more than any­thing else. Gus is actu­ally finding that being a horny teen­ager is get­ting in the way of him finding a real con­nec­tion. Jessica is more of an enigma, but played by the lovely Anna Kavan, she oozes mys­tery, if not depth.

Later in the film, Gus attempts to make things right for his earlier mis­deed, but finds he’s awk­ward and unsure what to do. And his later exchanges with Bill are frankly hil­arious, as he talks about wanting to pursue some­thing cre­ative (pho­to­graphy, painting) and then asks Bill for a hug. There is a lot of dia­logue in this film, com­pared to Quiet City. The exciting thing is to see the drunken sin­cerity of teens at a beerbash devel­oping into the first halting attempts at full-time adult sin­cerity. Pennsinger and Kavan both show their vul­ner­ab­ility in dif­ferent ways. Gus has to escape a per­sona, albeit one that has served him well for some time, while Jessica has just seemed unim­pressed with the quality of the men she’s been around, and is opening her­self up for per­haps the first time. Maybe it’s because I’m more of a dia­logue person than most, but I found these per­form­ances stronger than the ones with fewer words in Quiet City.

All in all, a great pair of films and a great intro­duc­tion to an exciting young director.

Dance Party USA poster

8/10(8/10)

Buy Quiet City/Dance Party USA from Amazon.ca

Buy Quiet City/Dance Party USA from Amazon.com

UPDATE 6/21/08 Both of these films played at the Toronto stop of the Generation DIY mini-festival which is trav­el­ling across Canada in the next few weeks. Here is the Q&A with dir­ector Aaron Katz held after the screening of Dance Party USA. The first loud voice is your humble author asking a ques­tion, the second loud voice belongs to my friend and col­league Bob Turnbull, and that’s Canada AM’s film critic Richard Crouse hosting the session:

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Duration: 13:10

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