Reviewed
by Lamar Kukuk
8/25/09
Reviewed
based on a DVD screener provided by the filmmakers
Admit
it. If you're reading this review, you've thought about it.
If you were able to scrape together a shoestring budget, a fast-moving
crew and a cast of people you found along the way, just what kind of low-budget
movie would you make? Maybe you'd go all Robert Rodriguez and try
to remake The Matrix for a buck ninety-eight. Maybe you'd
look for some kind of clever story that takes place entirely in a stuck
elevator. Or, if you were debuting writer-director Jason Shahinfar,
you might dabble in a bit of Southern Neorealism. Sure, he's not
particularly interested in the aftermath of the Franco regime, but all
the other hallmarks of the post-WWII Italian filmmaking movement are in
abundant supply in Cut From Home: amateur actors playing variations
on themselves, a plot made up of a series of encounters rather than a straight
narrative through-line, real locations, available lighting (OK, we're getting
into the territory of Neorealism's modern, self-absorbed cousin Dogme 95
there) and a focus on the world of the poor and downtrodden. As a
filmmaking experiment, Cut From Home is a rousing success.
It looks great, the actors acquit themselves well, and its' largely improvised
scenes have the snap and rhythm of real life. It's less successful
as a story, too long at a lean 84 minutes and a bit too coy for its' own
good.
We
meet Sam (Sam Mallo) and Dani (Dani Niedzielski) on the road, where they're
borrowing the car of friends Jennifer (Jennifer Leigh Dunlap) and Blake
(Blake William Lewis) and mostly just hanging out. They talk in forced
good cheer, dancing around... something. When the four of them go
out to eat and Sam spots a police officer, he freaks and takes the car,
leaving Jennifer and Blake, who's on probation, stranded. They smell
the obvious rat and kick their friends to the curb, leaving them to wander
Savannah on their own, their lifestyle teetering between drifters and homeless.
After a time spent on the farm of Barney (Barney Nease) and Norma (Norma
Nease), they become squatters in a burned-out house. Sam shoplifts
for food and as Dani keeps bringing the conversation back to her desire
to “go home”, tensions finally boil over. Can Sam and Dani move past
their shared tragedy?
Whatever
exactly that tragedy is. Regular readers here know that I'm a plot
guy, and while I can have a perfectly good time luxuriating in character,
I want what plot there is to work, and Cut From Home's is frustratingly
elusive. I don't mind so much that we never really learn the specifics
that would explain why there's a baby in happy flashbacks we see and there's
none in the present. It's that the hints we get don't really fit
together, particularly with a rushed wrap-up that left me a bit puzzled.
I mean, unless Sam was completely off-base to be afraid of the cops, won't
they have something to say about the decision he makes at the end?
It made me feel like the answer to his repeated ominous comments to Dani
that “You know why we can't go home!” was simply “Because I don't want
to.” In general, the third act is the movie's weakest material, because
once Sam and Dani are apart, neither actor is as strong as they were as
a couple, and the tension between them provides a kick throughout that's
missing once we're primarily left with Sam grasping for rock bottom (and
freestyle rapping, a long, momentum-sapping sequence regardless of the
undeniable talent of the performers involved). I did like the Reverend
(couldn't find his name in the press materials) who gives him some quality
advice, but the last two scenes have the feel of cleaning up obligatory
business rather than the emotional payoff they should have been.
Before
it runs out of gas, there's a lot to like about Cut From Home, and
it all starts with the success Shahinfar had selecting and then directing
his rookie actors. Home feels very much like a documentary,
and it's interesting to watch and think about the difference between “acting”
and how people actually talk and relate to each other. There's a
great spontaneity to the rhythm of the conversations, and they run the
gambit from clever banter about Infomercials to the simple sincerity of
Barney and Norma. Niedzielski is the movie's best find, effectively
wearing her misery every second she's on-screen, even when she's superficially
happy. Mallo really nails that stew of self-pity and evasion that
can make us guys so irritating, even if he's not as good at expressing
his character's underlying pain. Dunlap and Lewis are wonderfully
natural. I particularly liked his story about how he came to be on
probation, told with the conviction of a man unfairly victimized by his
own decision to forge his aunt's name on loan applications. Also
loved the easy storytelling style of Charles Nessola: I could have
listened to him talk all day.
Cinematographer
Brian Udoff (who also wrote the story) puts on a clinic working with natural
light. I really loved all the completely monochromatic outdoor shots,
and the general documentary look that feels like we've caught these people
in the act of living their lives. Credit also to Jason D. Yi's crisp
editing.
Cut
From Home frustrated me with its' inability to close, but Shahinfar
has done a splendid job with his stated goal of capturing the people, places
and emotions of his location. As such, there is an audience for whom
this is going to be just what the doctor ordered. Film festivals
are packed to the gills with stars and name directors trying and failing
to deliver this kind of cinematic verisimilitude. And if you're on
the hunt for those kind of Dogme/Neorealist virtues, they're in plentiful
supply here. As we say here at the Palace, you know who you are. |
