Trailer for Sam Neave's Almost in Love

Here's the trailer for Sam Neave's newest, which is featured on the film's page for the Abu Dhabi Film Festival.

Cry Funny Happy (Sam Neave, 2003)

I recently rewatched Sam Neave's 2003 film Cry Funny Happy, which I first saw a few years ago. That initial viewing pretty much floored me -- I wasn't expecting the film to come anywhere close to the emotional terrain it ended up in. The film focuses on several friends, one of whom, Wes, is turning 30 and has decided to throw a party at his and his girlfriend's apartment. Several of Wes's friends have made the trip to New York City to attend his party. We are introduced to them in a series of intercutted scenes, and eventually it all converges at Wes's apartment, where the party gets underway.

Up until this point, the film is very well acted, and I would add very well written, but I learned via the DVD's commentary that it was almost totally improvised, which isn't surprising, except that it feels written with perhaps the characters given the freedom to ad lib as needed. The whole film has the feel of Cassavetes Husbands, or a Mike Leigh film, where the improvisation was done beforehand, and then "locked down" with a script. In other words, very little from the performances feels extraneous. This is due to another fact revealed in the commentary: the actors were given time to work on their characters and relationships to each other before shooting began, and as a result the film feels both spontaneous and focused.

My initial impression was that Neave was simply going to show us some interesting characters, give them a party to attend during which some skeletons might be revealed, and then send them on their way. Instead, almost on a dime, Wes has a breakdown and the party derails. It is here that the focus I mentioned above becomes more apparent (especially during a second viewing). Wes's character is harboring some sort of pain that up until this point is hinted at through his humor and his passive-aggressive arguments with his girlfriend. We are never given a concrete reason as to why he feels this way or why he loses it during his party. Neave says in the commentary that there were some deleted scenes having to do with Wes gambling, perhaps losing some money or something. I think it was wise to leave these scenes out. Not being able to pin Wes's behavior on any specific event forces us to not only observe Wes more acutely, but perhaps realize that these feelings and behaviors aren't quite so foreign to our own lives, either. When all is said and done, it's pretty much a tour de force of independent filmmaking. I've seen very little in the no-budget movement from the last decade that matches its sharp observations and intensity.

Neave's new film, Almost in Love, is just beginning to be shown at film festivals, and I'll being seeing it for sure when it makes its way to the Bay Area.

Two Box Sets: Swanberg's Collected Films 2011 and Nilsson's 9@Night series

So, Joe Swanberg is releasing his last four films as a box set, via Factory 25 and employing a unique distribution plan by releasing each film quarterly along with extras. I have to admit, I haven't seen a Swanberg film since Hannah Takes the Stairs, but not because I didn't like his films. I thought his film before that, LOL, was very good. I saw it in a packed theater in San Francisco's Mission district, and the crowd loved it. Since then he's seemed to garner a lot of critical derision. I can recall an audience member being quoted after attending of his more recent films as saying something like, "These films are the product of a culture with nothing left to say." (I can't find the article that contained the quote.)

I find I'm often attracted to polarizing artists. Sometimes, they're misunderstood or unfairly maligned, and sometimes, well, the work just happens to suck. I'd like to take a look at these films, and I am intrigued by the distribution method. But at one hundred dollars, the price is a bit steep, especially if I end up not liking the films. Here's a post at cinemaspragus that makes one of the films in the set, Silver Bullets, look interesting -- certainly a departure from anything I've seen by Swanberg in the past.

On a somewhat related note, there is a box set I've been meaning to buy for a long time now -- Rob Nilsson's 9@Night series, and before I even consider buying Swanberg's set, I'm definitely getting Nilsson's first. I saw two of the films in the series when they played at the San Francisco Roxie in 2008, and was pretty blown away by how good they were. A filmmaker friend once told me Nilsson's movie's were sloppy, and I could see what he meant by that; Rob didn't seem to care much for aesthetics, at least not in a superficial sense. I got the feeling he didn't sweat the details because he was reaching for something higher. Most of the time, he got there. I thought it was everything independent film should be. I plan on getting the set soon, and writing about each film in length.

Microcinema

Here's a recent article about microcinemas in New York City, and here's another, better article about microcinemas across the country that appeared in Cineaste a couple years ago. I attended an open screening at SF's own ATA once. I liked some of the films -- I remember an abstract, computer generated one in particular that was pretty great -- but the volume was turned up so high during every film that it hurt my ears (remember: these are small, DIY films and don't have the best sound mixes to begin with), and they played a Hendrix live album loudly during the intermissions which made it hard to socialize. It was such an alienating experience that I never went back. I suppose I'll suck it up one day and attend another screening, or maybe check out Craig Baldwin's Other Cinema, mentioned in the Cineaste article. I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining; I love the idea of microcinemas, of course. I just hope they don't all need to have the atmosphere of a dive bar to bring in an audience.

Squaw Hootnanny

"In 1987, my sis and her best friend Brandy formed a two-girl rock band in our backyard. It lasted about a week and spawned one album. 'Squaw Hootnanny' was the title track and my brother was recruited to provide pot-and-pan percussion."

Shaye Saint John

Shaye Saint John was a character/art project created by Eric Fournier, who posted videos of himself as his creation on Youtube and his own website about four or five years ago. I missed them the first time around, and Fournier is now unfortunately deceased, but his videos are still up on Youtube, and a DVD compilation he released is still for sale on Amazon. It's difficult to explain this sort of humor to anyone that doesn't immediately get it, and I don't even really laugh at the video above -- it elicits more a silent admiration. Note the music and how it changes back and forth from shot to shot -- the video wouldn't work quite as well without it. For an example of something that does make me laugh until I cry: "Stumpwater Salad" and "TWENTY4SEVEN REDUX." I'm actually a little envious that someone could come up with something so weird and original and implement it in such a simple way (i.e., using a DV camera with an on-board mic). Inspired and inspiring stuff.

Malick and Molina at the Destruction Derby

I'm preparing a decently sized post for tomorrow night (at least two paragraphs, maybe even three!), but until I finish that, I thought I'd post this footage I came across on YouTube a while back. I thought the song and the slow motion footage of a destruction derby at dusk melded together perfectly -- it gave the scene an emotional subtext. Perhaps, had David Gordon Green made a no-budget micro indie that took place in the Midwest, this would serve as a cathartic final scene to his film. Or perhaps the filmmaker responsible for this footage could create a whole film in order to end it with this scene, assuming that obtaining the song rights wasn't the bigger obstacle. It is, at the least, very nice work.