NED RIFLE: Hal Hartley's third and final part of the splendid "Henry Fool" trilogy opens

Despite all the acclaim (mine included) for Richard Linklater's 12-year project, Boyhood, and his three-part, follow-the-characters-through-the-decades "Before" series, not so much is made of the very interesting and decidedly off-kilter trilogy that now completes itself with the simultaneous theatrical and digital opening of NED RIFLE, the third part of the trilogy that began with the brilliant Henry Fool, continued with the not quite so fine Fay Grim, and now concludes -- at least, according to what its filmmaker, Hal Hartley, tells us -- with this new work.

This lack of critical acclaim may be because Hartley (at right) is even more "independent," loosey-goosey and out of the mainstream than is Linklater. His work over the decades (his full-length film debut was 1989's The Unbelievable Truth) has ranged pretty far afield, with Henry Fool being perhaps his most accessible and popular work -- and that is still nowhere near mainstream. Even when he's seemingly out to lunch (as with the oddball Girl From Monday), there's still plenty going on. I find Hartley's work worth watching, no matter what, and this is particularly evident in this fine trilogy.

It's been well over a decade since I revisited Henry Fool and maybe five years since Fay Grim (the eponymous characters for which the first and second film are named. Ned Rifle -- also eponymous -- turns out to be the son of the aforementioned pair, and this movie is his story.

As played again by Liam Aiken (two photos above), who has grown some since the second film -- these characters age realistically and believably from movie to movie -- Ned, with his mom in prison and his dad forever on the run, has been in some sort of witness-protection program, living as part of a very a church-going family, in which Dad (Hartley regular, Martin Donovan, above, right) is the local preacher.

Back again, too is Parker Posey (above) as Ned's mom, along with the driving force of the trilogy, Thomas Jay Ryan as dad Henry (below), who had too small a role in the middle movie. Also on board is the wonderful James Urbaniak (two photos below), reprising his role as Simon Grim.

From the start of Ned Rifle, we're besieged with god, prayer, terrorism, witness protection, and a plan for murder. Hatley's plot machinations are witty and smart, and his peculiar style of weighty-subjects-done-deadpan is exactly right. In this film, he takes in the modern world, including blogs, the web and credit-card tracking in ways that are humorous if not always completely believable. But he is after bigger game, and he often manages to catch it.

The filmmaker treats things we generally laugh at or pooh-pooh as worth at least considering honestly. His film is also full of fraught reunions executed in small, precise, dry and alternately funny and moving scenes. Ned Rifle builds in humor and suspense, and yes, there are a gun and a knife present -- both given their Chekhovian due.

New to this film, and so very good that she ought to become an immediate member of the Hartley acting stable, is Aubrey Plaza (above and below) who plays Susan Weber, a lady with connections to just about every other character in the film. Ms Plaza is near-perfection: the central figure in an array of characters that is indeed something to see.

The suspense, smiles and shocks build, and then -- suddenly it's all over. Too fast. I'd like to say More, please, but Hartley has told us there will be nothing further, at least so far as these characters are concerned. Too bad. For now, though, at least we have the joys of Ned Rifle. And while there is nothing here as amazing as that final scene in Henry Fool of running (toward or away, and does it even matter?), this final segment connects us so fully to that earlier film that we can only be thankful. (Grateful, too, for the wonderful music score -- by Hartley himself.)

Ned Rifle -- from Vimeo on Demand and running only 85 minutes (considerably shorter than the first two in this series) -- will open theatrically on Wednesday, April 1 in NYC (at the IFC Center) as well as via Vimeo On Demand. On Friday, April 3, the film will open in L.A. (at the CineFamily), San Francisco (at The Roxie), and Toronto (at The Royal), and then branch out on Friday April 10 to Boston/Cambridge (at The Brattle), Huntington, NY (at Cinema Arts Center), Seattle (at SIFF Center) and Portland, Oregon (at The Laurelhurst).  

New from Hal Hartley --via FANDOR-- the highly theatrical, diverse & funny potluck MY AMERICA

Just about the perfect "watch" for Independence Day (on which day the film made its debut via FANDOR), MY AMERICA, the new work from Hal Hartley, is almost nothing like what you usually get from this man, one of America's premier independent filmmakers ever since his first full-length feature premiered in 1989 -- the same year, by the way, that Steven Soderbergh premiered his first full-length feature. While you could hardly find two more divergent career paths, for me it has long been Hartley who has kept the faith, so to speak -- even if some of his more recent films have failed to find much or nearly any audience. Still, Hartley (shown below) has maintained his "quirk," offering us many good films and one great one (Henry Fool), while Soderbergh bounces from independents to commercial blockbusters (or would-be) and back again with ease.

Hold on, though: If you're expecting anything like the usual Hartley endeavor, better set your expectations differently. My America is a compilation film with its roots in legitimate theater, made up of around 20 short monologues written by 20 different playwrights. These have been culled from the 50 monologues that were first presented at Maryland's Center Stage in 2012. From those 50, these 20, I guess, were chosen to grace Hartley's 78-minute finished film. Since the left-out playwrights include the likes of Anna Deavere Smith and Christopher Durang, one can only marvel or worry at the process of selection.

As good as many of these monologues are, My America also made me pine for Hartley's writing, nudging me to realize that, as a filmmaker, his work is even more dependent on his screenplay and dialog than on his visual sense. So, once you've set your mind to enjoying these varied and interesting, funny and not-so theater pieces, photographed in differing locations, some of which could easily be (and maybe were) the stage itself, you can relax into appreciating what these writers have to say about America today. And also appreciate the consummate skill with which most of the actors perform the playwrights' work.

The fact that these monologues are at least two years old hardly changes their worth or timeliness, since our country is in pretty much the same shape now as it was in 2012. As with any series of individual pieces, some are better than other. None take a nose dive, however, and several -- including Bekah Brunstetter's piece in which a Southern mom (two photos up) talks about food, death and the one percent; Dan Dietz's soldier's tale (above) of Afghanistan; and Kristen Greenidge's "Hit & Run" (below) -- are splendid little gems.

The performers are often quite wonderful, too, helping their monologue take off into the stratosphere. Kristine Nielsen, shown at bottom, plays a lady in pearls who tracks the decline of modern civilization back to a very odd and funny source, while Thomas Jay Ryan (below) essays a half-hidden fellow who tells us of fallen Presidents and asks if we are the cat, the mouse, or just "one of these assholes." Mr. Ryan is, as he often proves to be, funny perfection.

Themes covered here range from our current economic times to the "magic" of real estate, from our non-ending war(s) to our ever-present racism, prison, aging, Asians and more. There's even a Southern musical interlude, written by Polly Pen and performed by Jeb Brown (below), about little Jimmy spinning in a baseball field.

Think of the film as a welcome antidote to the latest confusion from Dinesh D'Souza and his America. The only piece here that D'Souza might cotton to is the first: Gyydion Suilebhan's monologue about a dad going all teary-eyed patriotic at a sports event.

All in all, My America is a rich feast of hors d'oeuvres, rather than dinner. Yet I suspect that it may seem even better and more nourishing a few hours after viewing. Which you can do now, thanks to Fandor.
Click here for specifics.  (If you live in the NYC area, you can also see the film at a one-time screening at the IFC Center, this coming Wednesday evening, July 7, at 7pm, hosted by Hal Hartley and Fandor's Ted Hope.)