Little Men

LITTLE MEN             A-                   

USA  Greece  (85 mi)  2016  d:  Ira Sachs                 Official site

Our parents are involved in a business matter, and it’s getting ugly, so they’re taking it out on us.   —Tony Calvelli (Michael Barbieri)

Ira Sachs has been described as a New York City filmmaker, where like many who have come before him, the city is used as a backdrop throughout the film, highlighting the scintillating streets of New York, feeding off the thriving neighborhood energy, where diversity in the population goes almost unnoticed, viewed as part of the changing landscape, yet has a major impact in his intimate dramas.  Quoting Bilge Ebiri, Sundance Review: Little Men -- Vulture:  “If Martin Scorsese was the quintessential auteur of New York in the 1970’s and 80’s — with its wise guys and street toughs — and Spike Lee that of New York in the late 80’s and 90’s — with its Balkanized enclaves and attitudes — then Ira Sachs is gradually becoming the quintessential auteur of today’s New York — the one of class inequality, and of relationships transformed by the changing city around them.”  Offering expansive ideas in a small film, the drama is concise, yet very powerful, feeling like a follow up to Fred Wiseman’s In Jackson Heights (2015), highlighting the ethnic diversity that exists within this New York City neighborhood in north-central Queens that’s being driven out by real estate prices and gentrification, yet while Wiseman’s is filled with detail and minutiae, this film provides all the heart that is missing in that film.  New York is increasingly just for the rich, with entire neighborhoods driven out of existence by rising costs.  Specializing in stories about people in crisis, this film focuses on two different families living in the same building where common interests unite them and bring them together, only to eventually be separated by class distinctions, where the exorbitant price of real estate in New York City ultimately becomes a wedge that becomes more powerful than existing bonds of friendship.  It’s a traumatizing story filled with heartache, yet offers a distinct view of how urban neighborhoods drive out the minorities through supposed economic concerns, never admitting to any prejudicial views, yet the racial component is unmistakable.  The future in each case is uniquely different depending on whose shoes you happen to be in, where white privilege and a sense of yuppie entitlement aggravates existing tensions, creating an anxious divide of class hypocrisy where there was once harmony, or at least tolerance.  The gentrification conflict is one most urban residents can recognize, as few neighborhoods are spared, where tense Brooklyn real estate dilemmas have been seen in movies before, including Hal Ashby’s THE LANDLORD (1970), Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing (1989), and Noah Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale (2005), but this is one of the few that cares to explore the personal impact.  Lest we forget, cities across America were formed by an influx of people migrating from different parts of the country and from around the globe all seeking work, where the postwar generation after WW II felt a special obligation to shelter those that were driven from their homelands during the war, where a welcoming spirit was synonymous with the American spirit, where the Statue of Liberty reads, in part:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

But generational shifts have changed that sentiment, with greed playing its part, where people only care about themselves.  This film is like a time capsule into the mindset of the modern era revealing how once revered values have been excoriated and tossed aside to make way for more selfish concerns.  This is the changing face of America, where minorities are once again excluded, but this time there’s no redlining, no mention of housing discrimination, no need to establish malicious intent, as it’s all done legally, where the competitive market drives the jacked up prices, and those on the economic fringe are sent away in droves.  Whites left the inner cities in the 50’s and 60’s for safety concerns, superior schools, and the promise of a better life in the mostly white suburbs, but now, with newly attained wealth, they’re moving back into the cities building million dollar mansions that drive up the real estate prices.  While this film never provides any political backstory, it clearly shows the drastic human impact of gentrification on ordinary families.  The film was shot in the Williamsburg neighborhood in Brooklyn, though it’s never mentioned by name.  “You’re gonna like this neighborhood, it’s become a very…bohemian area.”  Meet Tony (Michael Barbieri), a charismatic and wildly precocious 13-year old as he introduces himself to Jake (Theo Tapitz), a contemplative, aspiring artist who likes to draw but keeps to himself most of the time and doesn’t make friends easily.  These two are the titular heroes of the film, snubbed and socially excluded around others, yet easygoing and likeable with each other where they instantly flourish, becoming inseparable over time, probably the best thing that ever happened to either one of them, as they’re simply on the same wavelength.  Like a shelter from the storm, protected by the innocence of childhood, the two remain immune to the various problems of the adult world, which strike at the opening with the death of Jake’s grandfather, where a memorial service is held in his behalf.  We are quickly introduced to Jake’s parents, an Upper West Side couple from Manhattan that includes Brian (Greg Kinnear), an actor on the fringe doing scantily paid non-profit works, and Kathy (Jennifer Ehle), a psychotherapist who supports the family, often called away for emergency medical situations.  In order to help make ends meet, they move to their grandfather’s home in Brooklyn, something he left for his family, where one of the first things we hear from Brian, “You know, I grew up in this house.”  While they live on the second floor, the first floor has a dress shop, a small boutique with handmade dresses made and designed by Leonor, Paulina García from Gloria (2013) , almost always seen working tirelessly at her sewing machine, a single Chilean immigrant mother who lives with her son Tony, the same age as Jake.  By some apparent oversight that seems benign at the time, Leonor was not even invited to the funeral services, yet both sets of parents seem thrilled that their children have taken an instant liking to one another, apparently filling a previously existing social void. 

The rhythm of the film is established by the brash energy of the two kids, who also carry the dramatic weight of the film, often seen careening around the sidewalks of the city, Tony on his kick scooter with Jake on rollerblades, accompanied by long musical interludes composed by Dickon Hinchliffe, known for his poetic music in Claire Denis films, where the kids discover the city around them at the same time they explore their developing relationship.  Stylistically, shot by cinematographer Óscar Durán, these are among the best scenes of the film, as they broaden the compositions to include a wider canvas of New York City in flux, often seen in painterly images, like views of the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge expressed with a liberating fluidity of movement, where it’s as if the kids are clearing their heads of any and all emotional baggage, leaving them open and more receptive for something new.   Both decide they want to attend the LaGuardia High School for the Performing Arts, the same one, Tony notes, attended by Al Pacino and Nicki Minaj, though apparently Pacino dropped out.  Tony, the true revelation in this film, wants to be an actor, while Jake draws and paints.  One of the scenes of the film is an acting exercise with Tony mimicking his screaming instructor (Mauricio Bustamante), each trying to gain the upper hand, with the kid holding his own throughout, Little Men CLIP - You Did it Again (2016) - Michael Barbieri Movie YouTube (1:49).  But reality intrudes, where flamboyance is replaced by the claustrophobic inertia of the adult world, reflected by Brian’s performance in Chekhov’s The Seagull, and a decision made to restructure their finances.  With the intervention of Brian’s sister Audrey (Talia Balsam), who has also inherited a share of the home, they have come to realize that the downstairs apartment is worth five times more than the current rent, which hasn’t been raised since the neighborhood changed.  When Brian personally delivers a new lease tripling the rent (“still below market value” according to Audrey), Leonor doesn’t even have to look at it, as she knows the message being delivered.  Relations grow tense, as a seething Leonor refuses to respond, knowing she can’t pay what they demand, so Kathy intervenes, claiming she’s an expert in conflict resolution, but it feels a lot like bullying, as the point of view is one way only, as Leonor’s position is completely ignored, blocked from reality, as it’s all about dollars and cents.  While Brian tries to be a decent guy, it’s clear he’s not at all like his father, who was the epitome of a decent guy, willing to overlook financial concerns as he felt the neighborhood benefited from the presence of Leonor’s one-of-a-kind boutique.  Their talks grow colder and more personally hurtful, where Leonor suggests she was actually closer to his father than Brian, speaking every day for years, where she tended to him when he grew sick and frail, reminding Brian that he was never there.  None of that matters, however, even after the kids give their parents the silent treatment, knowing something poisonous is in the air, but they are thunderstruck to learn Leonor is getting evicted, with Jake breaking the silence, offering a tearful, desperate final plea that is also ignored.  So much for conflict resolution, or the best interests of your kids, who end up being pawns in a grown-up battle, where class and country of origin are never mentioned, as only money matters.  The unseen emotional toll in this film is reminiscent of Baumbach’s The Squid and the Whale (2005), with divorced parents fighting to supposedly maintain the best interests of their children, but only end up inflicting further harm.  The final epilogue sequence has an air of inevitability around it, filmed inside the Brooklyn Museum, offering a tragic sense of something lost.

Thin Ice

Actress Lea Thompson and director Jill Sprecher at Sundance

THIN ICE                    C                    

aka:  The Convincer

USA  (93 mi)  2011  ‘Scope  d:  Jill Sprecher               ATO Pictures [us]

Originally playing at Sundance 2011 under the name THE CONVINCER, the film changed the title and was re-cut and re-scored for its commercial release, and, according to a letter by the director to Roger Ebert mentioned as a footnote in his review here: Chicago Sun-Times [Roger Ebert], suggests quite a bit more was changed as well:  “The producers and distributor of our film completely re-edited it without me. Nearly 20 minutes were cut; the structure rearranged; out-takes used; voiceover and characters dropped; key plot points omitted; a new score added. Although our names contractually remain on the film, my sister and I do not consider 'Thin Ice' to be our work.”  One wonders how often this is the case in the movie industry, though normally one would hope changes may be slight or mutually agreed to.  However, there is a long history of this in the movie business, which is why it’s so hard for struggling directors to get final cut rights on their films.  According to Anthony Kaufman from indieWIRE: Exclusive: Sundance Film Taken from Director; is Werc Werk Works ..., since the premiere at Sundance, “The film lost its original title; it's now called ‘Thin Ice.’ The film lost its editor, Stephen Mirrione, who won an Oscar for his work on ‘Traffic.’ The film lost its composers, Emmy-winner Alex Wurman and Grammy-winner Bela Fleck. And it has lost its filmmakers, writer-director Jill Sprecher and her sister/co-writer Karen Sprecher.”  Werc Werk Works | Home is the Minneapolis production company on the film, founded by producers Christine Walker and Elizabeth Redleaf, where Walker subsequently resigned her position as President, leaving Redleaf as the CEO in charge, with others following Walker's departure as well, leaving the company’s future in jeopardy as they currently have no new films under contract.  The website mentions the film played at Sundance, but hasn’t mentioned it in any of their news items since then, as they have with their 4 other produced films, releasing the final product with as little fanfare as possible.  The Sprecher sisters, who found out about the cuts made to their film not from a company directive or agency communication, but from reading about it in newspapers and over the Internet, are forbidden under contract restrictions to use a pseudonym or to say anything substantial to the press other than their version of the film will be included on the eventual Blu-Ray release.  Wow, what a backstabbing, behind-the-scenes roller coaster ride!

  

As for the film itself, it reunites the LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE (2006) team of Greg Kinnear and Alan Arkin, adding Billy Crudup as comic relief, offering the potential for a dark comedy, but instead this is a somewhat convoluted and disturbing small town crime thriller where everything than can go wrong does, blowing up in the faces of the unsuspecting who grow more and more desperate over time, reminiscent of the Coen brother’s FARGO (1996), but without the meticulous detail of a brilliant script, including the accentuated personalities and hilarious small town charm.  Set in the wintry snow of Kenosha, Wisconsin, we find ourselves at a Midwest insurance convention (resembling a Moose lodge) where Kinnear plays Mickey, a bit downhearted that he didn’t take the top prize for salesman of the year, but ratchets up his hopes as the next year’s winner wins a trip to Aruba.  Before he knows it, he’s been waylaid by a conniving oversexed female who trades sex for stealing his credit cards, waking up in the morning feeling like he got fleeced.  To make up for his bad luck, he hires an insurance agent on the spot, David Harbour as Bob, who was about to go to work for the competition, feeling like he made a steal as Bob is a hard worker and conscientious team player, doing most of the work Mickey should be doing out in the field, but he’s consumed by other affairs, namely losing his wife, Lea Thompson (always excellent), and falling into a seemingly insurmountable mountain of debt.  Any man in his position would feel compelled to try Lady Luck despite the pitiful odds.  But he’s a born salesman, so he’s got experience on his side, perhaps taking advantage of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with an elderly customer Bob finds who’s already over-insured, Alan Arkin as Gorvy Hauer, who may have an invaluable violin lying on the premises which Mickey thinks might come in handy, thinking he could switch violins and the senile old man wouldn’t notice.

As if by design, Gorvy has out of town family business, which Mickey thinks is the perfect opportunity, but there’s a kicker.  Just before he leaves, he has a security alarm installed by Billy Crudup as Randy, a sort of fly by night operator who turns out to be an ex-con, changing the rules of the game midstream.  What seemed like a simple bait and switch runs into serious difficulty, which has both of these guys on the run for a despicable crime intended to shut somebody up.  Over time, these guys dig themselves into a deeper and deeper grave, where Mickey’s money problems escalate with his lies and guilty conscience, both intended to cover up his tracks, but he only grows more exposed, which really pisses off Randy, who thought these guys were a bunch of nobodies that no one would care about, thinking they couldn’t be more perfect foils to take advantage of.  Randy never did any actual respectable work in his life, so he has to con (read threaten) others into giving him money, something he does very well, as he turns into a crazed maniac when things don’t go his way.  Crudup is really loony most of the time, always over the edge, while Kinnear is the ordinary everyman who can’t resist temptation when it comes calling in dollar signs.  Kinnear’s secretary, Michelle Arthur as Karla, makes the most of her small part, while it’s really a two man operation, Kinnear and Crudup who continue to out screw up the other.  What’s missing is any real sense of humor or playfulness in their boneheaded acts, where the characters find themselves caught up in the scrambling details of the story and don’t have much of a chance to breathe life into their characters.  Kinnear can’t stand up to William H. Macy’s role in FARGO of a squirming weasel which is played with a delightful relish of immorality and cowardice, while Kinnear is perhaps too likeable, a decent guy gone to bad ends to try to make up for the fact he’ll never get anywhere in smalltown America without changing the odds by pulling off a big score.  The odds are always stacked against him, and there’s a reason why they call them low “odds,” as it would take a miracle to pull off this caper.  One can only surmise that this wasn’t that good a film to begin with at Sundance, probably made worse by the somewhat desperate, last minute measures taken by the production team which were obviously at odds with the originators of the film, who are themselves daughters of a Wisconsin insurance salesman, and in a truth is stranger than fiction twist ironically woke up one morning after Sundance feeling like they got fleeced.