Beyond The Googolplex

originally published February 21, 2007

Because the movie theaters have evolved from artistic showcases to strictly commercial enterprises, many independent and foreign films receive critical acclaim at festivals, and the cold shoulder from larger theaters. This column is intended to showcase these rare gems (among other cinematic delights), which are all available at your local video store, through Netflix or from online retailers. No one should resign themselves to watching American Pie 4 1/2 just because it’s the only movie playing at the googolplex. Make it a night in and treat yourself to an innovative, atypical treat.

A little about me: I attended UGA and graduated with a B.A. in English Literature in 2005. I moved to Italy, where I worked as a nanny, learned Italian and drank a lot of wine. Returned home broke, took a temp job at a news station in Boston, and was offered a job as a promotions writer and producer (selling the evening news with catchy teases). That’s where I am today. In my spare time, I watch films. Lots of them. And because I disagree with a lot of the crap that comes to the theater, I make use of Netflix, Blockbuster and Digital On Demand quite frequently. I employ a basic critic's rating system of A through F to guide you, dear readers. Now, on with the show:

The Puffy Chair

The Puffy Chair

(R) 2005. What could potentially be a soporific film constructed around a hackneyed subject proves itself to be an intelligent and intimate comedy that instinctually follows the patterns of codependent relationships and artfully avoids the clichés that plague the genre? (Yes, that was one full sentence).

In Jay Duplass' indie film, twenty-something Josh Sagers (Michael Duplass) embarks on a cross-country road-trip from New York to Georgia to pick up a purple recliner he wants to give as a birthday gift to his dad. At the last minute, he reluctantly invites along Emily (Kathryn Aselton), the “love of his life” whom he affectionately refers to as “dude.” A pit-stop at his hippie brother Rhett’s (Rhett Wilkins) house in Virginia brings the number of travelers to an uncomfortable three, and Josh and Emily’s bonding time unravels into a string of fiascos.

Before they can even cross the Georgia state line, both find themselves unsatisfied with their stagnant relationship and the constant rehashing of old arguments. Josh and Emily really don't know what they want for themselves, yet they both (Emily especially) make high demands of one another. The movie’s slow, deliberate pace follows the relationship’s escalating tension, until, finally, the couple makes a decision and the movie immediately ends.

The plot is a bit overused (bonding and breaking-up over the setting of a long roadtrip); however, Rhett’s character adds the right spice to an otherwise average casserole. Wilkins gives an endearing and entertaining portrayal of an idealistic, camera-wielding hippie. His irresponsible antics distract the audience from the unending arguments and drama of Emily and Josh, who are annoyingly similar to "that couple" we all know, the couple we wish would just end their damned and disastrous relationship.

B

L'enfant

L'enfant

(R) 2005. In Jean Pierre and Luc Dardenne's award-winning film, a teenage couple, Sonia and Bruno, have a baby and attempt to make ends meet with the help of Bruno and his gang of pre-pubescent thieves. It is Bruno's insatiable appetite for a quick return that ultimately seduces him to an unthinkable scam - sell the baby.

Excellent directing and editing really make this film work. With few lines of dialogue, both Jérémie Renier (Bruno) and Déborah François (Sonia) give complex performances that expose the immaturity and vulnerability of both the young father and mother. Gray panoramas of inner-city Seraing, Belgium, underscore Bruno's futile attempts to make a big score and Sonia's inexperienced maternal overtures.

The most striking aspect of L'enfant is the role of the baby, Jimmy. A simple prop, in many scenes an unseen Jimmy sits off to the side in his stroller or asleep in the car while Sonia and Bruno chase each other, argue and giggle (basically, behave like the children that, by age definition, they are). By shoving poor Jimmy to the side of the shot, the Dardennes seem to suggest that the film's title is not actually referring to Jimmy, but it instead tropes the parents’ arrested development. The characters are complex, the backdrop is bleak, and the narrative is overwhelming and moving.

A++

Robin Geddie