The Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed

 

Writer/director Joanna Arnow

THE FEELING THAT THE TIME FOR DOING SOMETHING HAS PASSED     C                     USA  (87 mi)  2023  d: Joanna Arnow

Do you think people can change?        —Ann (Joanna Arnow)

Mumblecore has come a long way since the minimalist realism of Andrew Bujalski’s FUNNY HA HA (2003), Mark Duplass’ THE PUFFY CHAIR (2005), Joe Swanberg’s HANNAH TAKES THE STAIRS (2007), Lynn Shelton’s HUMPDAY (2009), Lena Dunham’s TINY FURNITURE (2010), Noah Baumbach’s Frances Ha (2012), and Charlie McDowell’s The One I Love (2014), movies about the tedium of modern life, featuring meandering almost nonexistent plots that are very dialogue/character focused.  This feels like a post-Mumblecore movie, the modern day answer to the contemporary confusion from dead-end jobs, having to deal with a soulless corporate culture that not only feels dehumanizing, but exhausting, having to ping-pong back and forth from a series of one awkward moment after the next, with people languishing in their own ineptitude and banal existence, using deadpan, self-deprecating humor to exaggerate the absurdity of the moment, where the operative word in all this is distanced.  While the featured Mumblecore protagonists were mostly white, middle-class, and college educated, they are also indecisive and completely apolitical, alienated from their own lives, people who can’t ever make up their minds, who exist totally in a world of ambivalence.  These small budget D.I.Y. indie projects were ultimately a small phenomenon, very personal films made by twentysomethings and their friends, exploring the malaise at the core of our lives, often made on smartphones or home computers, receiving bare-bones theatrical runs, distributed instead on the internet befitting the general lack of industry financing, and never fully entered the mainstream until the concept was embraced by television, like Lena Dunham’s HBO series Girls (2012) or Joe Swanberg’s Netflix series Easy (2017).  Bored with what work entails, people could instead laugh at the absurdities they find themselves in, where the dysfunction plays out in interpersonal relationships, leading to a series of small, confessional sitcoms that have become the new cinematic cultural vanguard embraced by the nation with shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Arrested Development, The Office, 30 Rock, and Parks and Recreation.  Suddenly awkwardness and social discomfort was the norm, feeling disconnected with life, bored with the surrounding world and what it has to offer, even going so far as to make fun of meaningless family rituals that are the bane of one’s existence, or so it seems.  Mumblecore embraced the internet but was firmly influenced by cinema, while now the internet has fully integrated itself into real life, and social media has become its own influence.  While there’s an expressionless perception of coldness, reminiscent of similar films by Todd Solondz and Yorgos Lanthimos, spiritual depravity apparently hounds this new generation, having no role models or any confidence in the rapidly changing technological advancements, where new training sessions are continually replacing outdated work models, where pointless work is sustained at the expense of a disposable workforce, instilling a lack of trust in authority and the ill-effects of inequitable power dynamics, apparently espousing the views of David Graebner’s Bullshit Jobs - Wikipedia, who contends that more than half of available work today is meaningless, having a psychologically destructive impact on the workforce, who inevitably feel useless.  Whether it’s work, love, or family, they are all intertwined, yet this will likely appeal more to the attention deficit challenged social media generation of Millennials, making it all too easy to mock others and cast blame when things don’t go well, where it’s always someone else’s fault, as there’s little to no existential soul-searching, which was all the rage for the socially conscious Baby Boomers. 

Screened at Directors’ Fortnight at Cannes, there is an ambitious desire to make this matter to audiences, using a long shot, long take style of Tsai Ming-liang, also his quietness, but there’s nothing to lure them in, no character to identify with, and no actual humor to speak of, though some find the bone-dry delivery ridiculously funny, accentuating the pathetic awkwardness of uncomfortable situations.  However, this is not Roy Andersson, who offers a surreal and deeply philosophical Nordic take on the absurdities of modern existence, while also lacking the focus and originality of Radha Blank’s autobiographical insights that humorously explore the black experience in 2020 Top Ten List #9 The 40-Year Old Version.  This is instead largely an empty exercise in futility, a piece of autofiction with an exaggerated sense of detachment (like texting someone who is literally standing ten feet away), as if technology has completely shut down our ability to socialize or be human, where it’s too late to turn back now.  The title says it all, though it can also infer that the time for finding something meaningful in this film has also passed.  Mileage will vary depending on the individual viewer, but it’s hard to comprehend just who the audience is for this film, as it seems to target those who appreciate quirky comic sitcoms that resort to caricature, so watching this on television makes more sense than viewing it in theaters.   Made up of short, concise vignettes, capturing the frustrated feeling of early adulthood where you’re mechanically going through the motions, this is a collection of small moments in the life of an educated young woman in her 30’s, Ann, played by the writer/director herself, where there are stark moments of nudity splintered throughout the film, told in chapter headings that focus on the men in her life, as she plays a submissive in a comically absurd long-term BDSM relationship with an older man, Allen (Scott Cohen), which itself feels like a parody in its ordinariness, as he’s always fully clothed while she is completely naked for nearly half the film, which is not something you see today, yet this is so unglamorously unsexy, where the brunt of their relationship seems designed around sadomasochistic humiliation.  There’s nothing remotely fulfilling about the sex, as he doesn’t give a damn about her needs, or the details of her life, where she reminds herself “It’s like I don’t even exist,” so she apparently takes some comfort in not having to take responsibility for her thoughts or feelings, as if giving up control is a safe space, but it also prevents her from developing any longterm friendships or relationships, a bone of contention with her quarrelsome and suffocating Jewish family, particularly her real-life mother (Barbara Weiserbs), while her standoffish real-life father (David Arnow) is too busy ignoring her, having already given up on her.  The dysfunctional root of her existence appears to be in finding value in her life, as her parents don’t value her choices, while her employer feels the same way, viewing her as a small, low-level cog in a larger organization, where an irritated boss reminds her, “You didn’t become obsolete like you promised when I hired you,” leaving her all alone to fend for herself, finding little satisfaction to speak of.  Unfortunately, that same dissatisfaction is transferred to viewers, who are more than a little uncomfortable with what we’re seeing onscreen, while it’s also hard to understand the documentary advantage of using her own family.

While Arnow also writes fiction and draws comics (which this resembles), she is also the editor of her first feature film, which feels very choppy, some scenes lasting for just a few seconds, trying to do the most with the least, subverting conventional story structure in favor of a character progression, with her life changing with the passing seasons, yet there’s no unifying sense of cohesion other than things are continually happening to the same lead protagonist, who feels anesthetized throughout the film, as the absurdity and discomfort of that opening sequence pretty much defines the rest of the film.  Even around the office, subject to long meetings that go nowhere, Ann does not easily make friends or socialize with anyone, where it’s hard not to feel she’s created her own self-inflicted purgatory, never branching out, imprisoned by her own choices, none of which give her the power to explore the wide array of humanity, with the film exploring the monotony of lives trapped in routines.  Feeling a bit like Sartre’s No Exit, always stuck in the same rut, with a vast feeling of emptiness, which only feeds into a lack of self-worth and a sense of stagnation, where “I hate myself” seems to be the recurring mantra, which, coincidentally, is the title of an earlier short film, I HATE MYSELF :) (2013).  Perhaps, as a result, she decides to go on a dating app to meet someone, discovering an affable yet more conventionally acceptable Chris (Babak Tafti), and while their disjointed connection does feel authentic, fueled by a similar middle class intelligence, it’s more about the trials and travails of trying to make it work, though Chris seems more eager in that regard, as he’s openly optimistic, The Feeling That the Time for Doing Something Has Passed ... YouTube (59 seconds), yet she’s continually pulled back down into the mud of her own anxieties and lack of ambition, where she just doesn’t believe in anything.  As a result, nothing ever happens for her, with no aspirations for anything better, so she continually falls back on what she knows, at one point breaking out into a Les Misérables-style show tune that appears to have been personally written by Arnow to avoid paying copyright fees, while she has just about memorized the entire repertoire of Andrew Lloyd Webber, a throwback to Debra Winger in TERMS OF ENDEARMENT (1983).  Similarly, her introverted father at one point breaks out into a guitar-accompanied rendition of Solidarity Forever, with his wife joining in, yet what it ridiculously exposes is the giant rift in the family’s lack of solidarity, leaving her left adrift on an island with no chance of rescue.  While the essence of the film is a pervasive sense of hopeless depression, which is never really taken seriously, by the way, preferring to mock or make fun, there are infused moments of humor peppered throughout, yet they don’t lift the spirits of either this character or the audience wondering where all this is leading, where the title comes from a conversation near the end of the film.  Shot with a handheld camera and muted color palette by Barton Cortright, the film hopes to convey the subjective experience of the way time passes, playing out like a cringeworthy TV show, but it’s hard to find joy in such abject despondency, or the plight of other people’s emotional and psychological doldrums, leaving viewers just as stranded as she is, where it’s hard to find reasons to care about someone who has all the advantages handed to them through education and opportunities, but then squanders those opportunities, doing as little with them as is humanly possible.    

Frances Ha

FRANCES HA           B+                 

USA  (86 mi)  2012  d:  Noah Baumbach                  Official site

A smaller film from Baumbach, a drama of restless anxiety, much like the city of New York movies of Woody Allen with Diane Keaton in the 70’s like Annie Hall (1977) and Manhattan (1979), shot in the supposedly more realistic medium of Black and White by Sam Levy, where the combustible energy of the city is as much a character as any of the people living in it, a film that can briefly be described as a story that pays tribute to life in your 20’s and to New York City.  While it’s true, Baumbach mostly makes films about the loathsome lives of dissatisfied middle to upper class white people, who one supposes have their own unique problems dealing with the emptiness and boredom of their lives while others struggle with the crippling effects of an actual financial crisis, his films are often difficult to sit through because of the undercurrent of unpleasantness in the bitingly sarcastic wit on display, showing us with pinpoint accuracy the face of middle class disillusionment.  One of the best writers working today, he has a special ear for dialogue that gives the film a theatrical effect, like a modernist stage play, where perhaps the closest today may be Richard Linklater’s conversational romance trilogy of Before Sunrise (1995), Before Sunset (2004), and Before Midnight (2013).  An interesting collaboration brought this together, as co-writers Baumbach and Gerwig have been dating since late 2011, where their differing perspectives on each other’s age group, as he’s 14 year older, only make things more interesting.  Quite a contrast to Ben Stiller’s detestable lead in Greenberg (2010), or nearly all of Baumbach’s previous self-loathing lead roles, where according to Helen Gramates, former Chicago Film Festival programmer, “Baumbach couldn't really make the character loathsome or unsympathetic if his girlfriend is portraying/writing her!” 

Greta Gerwig rose to prominence through the Mumblecore movement, starring in Joe Swanberg movies, like NIGHTS AND WEEKENDS (2008), which she co-wrote, directed, and starred with Swanberg before becoming the *it* girl of indie films, similar to Chloë Sevigny in the 90’s, working with Whit Stillman in Damsels in Distress (2011), the more mainstream Lola Versus (2012), and Woody Allen in To Rome With Love (2012).  In each she plays a variation on the independent woman role originated by Keaton, vibrantly energetic, intellectually curious, but always appearing neurotic, never at ease with herself, where physically she’s a bit awkward and something of a klutz, where in the storyline she’s continually challenged by the unwelcome effects of making the wrong choices.  A single girl without any serious love interests, Gerwig as Frances is in nearly every scene of the film, where her life is equally consumed by her roommate and best friend Sophie (Mickey Sumner, Sting’s daughter), where they’d be lost and alone without each other, considering themselves identical twins in mind and spirit, though they’re nothing alike.  While Sophie has a stable job she likes working in a publishing house, Gerwig frets about never having the kind of money her friends seem to have, supporting herself with odd jobs as an apprentice dancer and part-time choreographer, but never invited to join the dance company, simply filling in when there’s available work, usually during holiday concerts.  Though she thinks of herself as poor, quickly corrected by a friend who claims “that’s an insult to actual poor people,” she’s a college graduate whose parents live in the affluent suburbs of Sacramento, California, where at some point she has to learn to stop tapping into their resources whenever there’s a need to bail her out of financial jams.  Frances is in this in-between stage of prolonged childhood and becoming a young adult. 

When Sophie announces she’s moving out of the apartment to move in with a rich but relatively unlikable guy from Wall Street named Patch (Patrick Heusinger), who says things like (Frances says in a gruff monotone voice) “I gotta take a leak,” this leaves Frances without a home, going into a free-fall of one mini-disaster after another, each one more embarrassing than the last.  The ability to stand on her own does not seem to be one of her many talents, but she’s never at a loss for words, or an interesting opinion, turning into something of a pathological liar creating a more interesting fake life to cover her abysmally sad real one.  Stylistically, the film resembles the seemingly improvisational nature of the French New Wave, where the quirky state of mind of Frances is expressed throughout by familiar refrains of the Georges Delerue music from KING OF HEARTS (1966), adding an air of innocence and something adorably timeless about Frances, whose playful sense of humor masks her bundle of nerves and somewhat self-chosen insecurity, yet unlike Sophie, she’s not afraid to take risks and refuses to surrender her youthful ideals.  One sequence in particular shows Frances twirling, dancing, and leaping through the streets of New York to the music of David Bowie’s “Modern Love,” Frances Ha [2013] - Dance in the street - YouTube (1:08), paying homage to Denis Levant in the Léos Carax film Mauvais Sang (Bad Blood) (1986), seen here, Modern Love YouTube (2:01), although Levant sprints to the right in an endlessly long, unbroken shot at night while Gerwig runs to the left in much less impressive fashion during the day with several noticeable edits.  So while this smaller film may not live up to the artistic ideal of Carax or cinema greatness, Frances proves that misadventures are valuable life experiences and are part of the growing process, where in her own small way she remains true to herself.  Small victories are worth savoring, where you don’t always have to risk Don Quixote disillusionment and defeat by insisting upon fighting the larger and unwinnable battles.