Brief Notes on Two Summer Indie Movies: The Girlfriend Experience and The Brothers Bloom

Brief Notes on Two Summer Indie Movies

While I kicked off the summer movie season proper with J.J. Abram's Star Trek and can tell you that I enjoyed it, having not seen the other films or any of the television series, I remain unsure of exactly what my analysis can entail that would be worthy of reading. The film is far from perfect, but my criticisms remain largely aesthetic such as the overuse of a glowing filter/lighting technique everyone seems to be talking about and handheld camera at unnecessary moments. Star Trek is this year's Iron Man...I just hope there is something on par with The Dark Knight. This noted, I feel like my notes on two other summer films, Steven Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience and Rian Johnson's The Brothers Bloom, while brief and far from complete, can offer more than my elementary review of Star Trek.

The Girlfriend Experience

Steven Soderbergh, as I have described elsewhere, is a master of what I have called "twin cinema." He is filmmaker who crosses the border between indie and mainstream rather easily and while some of these efforts undoubtedly fail (The Good German, Full Frontal) and others succeed (Out of Sight, Che), they always are intellectually engaging and worthy of viewing (even the low-bar of Ocean's 12). The Girlfriend Experience, Soderbergh's second low budget/day and date release film for Magnolia Pictures and 2929, does not match the intense experience of Bubble. The problem with The Girlfriend Experience is that Soderbergh seems to have once again over-relied on homage. Whereas his reliance on Casablanca and The Third Man crippled The Good German in many respects, Soderbergh's reliance on the "world's oldest profession" preoccupation of Jean-Luc Godard have taken much of the bite out of Girlfriend Experience.

Porn star Sasha Grey stars as Chelsea, a high-priced call girl who provides clients with the title of the movie: an experience in which sex almost always is present, but along side a night of extravagant dinners and trips to the local cinema. When she is off the clock, she spends her spare time keeping a journal (which are essentially characterless chronicles of the previous night's work, included a list of the clothing she wore) and going out with her boyfriend Chris (Christopher Santos). I should note that Chris is aware of Chelsea's occupation and is, for the most part, accepting. After all, he essentially performs the same services and makes the same compromises as Chelsea in his own occupation as a gym trainer. The film, a 77 minute non-linear narrative, finds its focal point in an analysis of the social obstacles that Chelsea must construct in order to engage in this line of work, which essentially cripples her attempts at a non-professional romantic relationship. Yet, after spending my last quarter in a Jean-Luc Godard class and revisiting Vivre Sa Vie and 2 ou 3 Choses Que Je Sais D'Elle, I could not help but wonder what is new about this approach. While Soderbergh tries to contextualize it differently by consistently alluding to the harsh economic climate of the United States in the days running up to the 2008 election, it does not differentiate itself enough to be engaging to a viewer already familiar with its line of engagement.

With regard to the performance by Sasha Grey, who undoubtedly has a presence, it remains difficult to evaluate. While she often comes off as wooden, it remains unclear to me whether she is a poor actress or quite a good one by utilizing this wooden characterization to highlight the mask she is forced to wear to be a prostitute. If I had to make a take one side or the other, I would tend to drift towards the good. A cameo of note comes from film critic Glenn Kenny as a escort reviewer simply known as "The Erotic Connoisseur" which climaxes (pun intended) with a street rendition of "Everyone's a Critic." To quote Juliette in "2 ou 3 Choses" with relation to my thoughts on the film, "To define myself, one word: indifference." Maybe a second viewing will change my opinions. After all, I still felt engaged by it and find myself thinking about it a great deal, so from that standpoint it is worth watching but, especially after Che and Bubble, I still feel a tinge of disappointment.

The Brothers Bloom

Director Rian Johnson's follow-up to his superb high school-noir Brick takes another genre and tilts it on its head: the con man flick. Johnson discussed in a post-screening Q&A how this genre can be traditionally distancing to a viewer due to its reliance on a hall of mirrors structure in which cons are favored over people. Watching films like David Mamet's House of Games or Christopher Nolan's The Prestige for the first time, I certainly felt a distance and only upon repeated viewings did I start to walk away with a greater appreciation. The con man genre is a tight rope to walk and Rian Johnson's film proved to be quite the feat.

My notes will be brief and vague, due to the nature of the genre and the film and my fear of showing too much of Johnson's hand. The film begins with the brothers Bloom, Bloom (Adrian Brody) and Stephen (Mark Ruffalo), two of the greatest con men in this Wes Anderson-esque world of 40s suits, delightful banter, and 60s rock. Stephen is the master of the con, writing and planning his brother into the consistent role of the brokenhearted bait. Bloom, as the years and cons progress, has become under whelmed with his role and intends to retire to an island alone before being talked into one last con. The mark? An epileptic photographer, millionaire, and hobby collector named Penelope (Rachel Weisz), whom Bloom must trick into falling in love with him in order for the swindle to progress.

While the first two-acts of the film follow the Mamet-esque emphasis on trickery, Johnson never completely loses sight of the characters and utilizes a third-act, which initially appears unnecessary, as a means of underlining his intent. The third-act is what differentiates itself from the genre and while I held initial fears upon its unveiling, it leads the film towards perfection. The cast here, of course, is incredibly solid. Ruffalo might have benefited from some additional screen time, particularly with Brody alone in order to sketch out their relationship a bit more, but this is a minor quibble. Brody plays his usual sap, much like his role in The Darjeeling Limited except this film should show Wes Anderson what it is like to make a good movie within his stylistic preoccupations again. Weisz is quite amazing in a role of a complete eccentric but, like Audrey Tautou in Amelie, the quirks never overwhelm the person and the audience cannot help but follow Bloom in falling in love with her. There are some lively supporting roles here as well by Robbie Coltrane and Maximilian Schell but the real highlight in this band of outsiders is Babel actress and Academy Award nominee Rinko Kikuchi as the mute demolitions expert Bang Bang. My enthusiasm for this film cannot go understated and if these brief reflections do not make you want to see it, let me just say what else the film has to offer: a cat with a wooden leg and a roller skate.