Minimalism du jour: Julia Loktev's THE LONELIEST PLANET opens in New York

"A film you will never forget," trumpets a critic used in the current advertisement for this new film. He's right. I'm certainly not going to forget a film that made me angrier than any I've seen all year (maybe in this whole new millennium). Its maker, Julia Loktev, shown below, made a stir a few years back when she gave us Day Night Day Night, another minimalist movie that at least had a hook: Terrorism. Its protagonist might or might not be going to blow up part of New York City. Even that did not make the movie as interesting as it ought to have been, but it did keep your eyes on the screen and your mind engaged, off and on, for 90-odd minutes. Ms Loktev's new one THE LONELIEST PLANET, minimalist-unto-empty, does not begin to manage even that, and it goes on for an unconscionable nearly-two-hours.

Exactly one single event happens in this entire movie, somewhere around midway, as I recall. The event is a humdinger, all right, a game-changer, a truth-teller, a turning point. But while it surprised me, I quickly realized that I didn't give a shit because I had no idea in hell about the character of the people involved in the event. How can this be, since there are but three main characters in the entire movie and we spend almost our entire time with only them? I'll tell you. Ms Loktev has no idea whatsoever about how to create full-bodied characters. This was true of her first film, as well, regarding her main character (all others were mere satellites), but the suspense of that character's intention carried us along.

Her three characters here are a young couple, soon to be married, and the guide they've hired to lead them around the Caucasus Mountains of Georgia. (I am told that the mountains are beautiful, but, as filmed here, they look like an exceptionally boring and repetitive landscape. And I won't even go into the dismal "look" of the night scenes.) Since we spend so much time with these three people, you'd think we might learn something about them, either by way of dialog or by watching all the tiny little bits of human behavior add up. Dream on.

The movie has very little dialog (neither did her earlier film, so I suspect Ms Loktev is not that adept at writing it) and what there is proves so extraordinarily mundane and character-free that I suspect that me and you and everyone we know (to quote a much more interesting filmmaker, Miranda July) could spout more specific and thoughtful verbiage in our sleep. This couple could be anyone at all, or more likely nobody at all, as folk this boring and character-free probably do not exist in our world.

Sometimes, if we're lucky in bad movies, strong actors can skirt lousy dialog and empty screenwriting. Not here. Gael García Bernal (above, right) is certainly a competent actor, but his perfor-mances tend to rise only to the level of what he's given, so expect little of him here. His co-star, Hani Furstenberg (above, left, from the Israeli films Yossi & Jagger and Campfire) seems likewise at sea so far as character is concerned. These two do what they can, which is simply to exist and bore us silly. The camera is often kept at a discreet distance, which holds us further from these people.

The third wheel, that guide, is played by Bidzina Gujabidze (above, center) in his first film endeavor, and he comes across as a less sensual and interesting Luis Tosar-type. He and Ms Furstenberg share the second best scene in the film, in which something actually, or almost, happens, and then, back to very little once again. Human beings are curious, inquisitive creatures, and the fact that no one would discuss the event that happened earlier in the film -- at least, why the initial event that inspires the reaction happened (I am willing to believe that these characters might be too embarrassed to discuss that reaction) is but one clue to the immense failure of this film.

Of course it is easier to leave out the more difficult and problematic. To the untutored eye and mind, this may make your movie look bold and uncompromising. In reality this withholding is just a cheat. And withholding on the kind of mammoth level that The Loneliest Planet achieves makes the movie a con game of epic proportions -- which has taken in, I must say, a number of our critics. The movie, from Sundance Selects, opens this Friday, October 26, in New York City exclusively at the IFC Center and hits VOD just four days later on October 30.

FRANCINE: Cassidy/Shatzky's minimal movie stars a very maximal Melissa Leo

I love minimalism -- particularly after, say, putting up with the latest Hollywood blockbuster. (On that note, we tried our luck with Battleship earlier tonight: nothing great, but certainly not as bad as many critics may have led you to believe.) A recent piece of minimal movie-making that works quite well is a film called FRANCINE, which stars the increasingly popular Oscar-winning actress Melissa Leo and comes to us via the film-making team of Brian M. Cassidy and Melanie Shatzky, who often act as writers/directors/ editors/producers (and in the case of Ms Shatzky, as occasional cinematographer).

TrustMovies is not certain that there are not a number of other talented actresses who could bring as much as Ms Leo does to this role. But would they? Would they be willing to hold their vanity to the breaking point and allow themselves to be seen sans makeup, in a nude shower scene, and building a charac-terization of a woman about as sad and sorrowful and maybe even as sick as we have seen for some time. It doesn't matter, however, because Leo, shown above, does a leonine job here, absolutely commanding the screen and our attention and yet giving an utterly un-showy perfor-mance as a middle-aged woman just released from prison (where the movie begins) but barely able to function in the world outside.

Our filmmaking duo (that's Cassidy, top left, and Shatzky at bottom) has a history in the documentary mode, and this becomes clear almost from the first frame. There is plenty of ambient sound, sometime overpowering, but zero exposition (we never learn what the crime was that landed this woman in prison), other than what we can pick up moment to moment from Francine and her life, as she and it move quietly along. "I'm sure you'll do fine," the prison warden says to her as he bids her good-bye. If only.

The movie runs but 74 minutes, including credits, and it feels just about exactly the length it needs to be. While I might have concentrated a little more on the human beings in this woman's life, rather than quite so often on its animal inhabitants, it is clear how important these animals are to Francine's sense of well-being and her need to protect others (the others being animals: much less risky than humans), since she is unable to properly protect herself.

She turns down the genuine overtures of a decent, kind and attractive local man -- nice low-key performance from Keith Leonard (above, right) -- only to be have a bout of self-violating sex with a either a boss or maybe a customer (at this point in the film, she's a waitress) at the local track.  We may get a hint of past history in the way the character responds to a seemingly spontane-ous concert by acid rockers that she encounters, but this is almost akin to guesswork on our part. There's a lesbian tryst along the way, too, but that, like so much else here, Francine is unable to respond to in any kind of normal, socially-responsive manner.

Our girl goes through jobs at the local pet store, lumber yard and veterinary clinic -- where we watch examples of animal spaying (below) and euthanasia -- all the while adding to her menagerie of pets until it's clear that she's incapable of taking care of them or herself. She no longer knows (if she ever did; we don't learn this) how to connect solidly with other people on almost any kind of level, and so she begins to disappear into her "pets."

This is sorrowful, depressing stuff, but as I say you can't look away because Ms Leo is always there and always filling, with utter honesty, the body and soul of Francine -- the woman and the movie. The one positive note: Wherever this film takes place -- it seems like maybe upstate New York -- jobs are certainly easy enough to come by. (Another "if only.")

Francine, a minor gem of realistic character study, coming to us via Washington Square Films and Pigeon Projects and distributed by Factory 25, opens this Wednesday, September 12, in New York City for a week's run at the Museum of Modern Art, with a limited national rollout to follow. And on that note: the film's website might possibly consider updating its Screenings page, and Factory 25 might do the same on its website....

Kelly Reichardt is back: Michelle Williams & Bruce Greenwood star in MEEK'S CUTOFF

I've only seen three of Kelly Reichardt's five full-length films, but it seems to me that, with each of these last three, her canvas has expan-ded noticeably, while her approach remains decidedly minimalist. This is interesting. From two guys shootin' the shit in Old Joy, to a girl and her dog confronting life and hard times in Wendy and Lucy, and now, in her new film MEEK'S CUTOFF, a small set of pioneers (and their minimal wagon train), some hundred and seventy-three years ago, crossing a parched land, trying to find their way to civilization and water. Yes, this is history -- in the "Western" genre, complete with Cowboy, Indian and Settlers. At this rate, I'll expect to see Ms Reichardt's universe expanding soon to the point where she'll doing the latest Star Trek movie, in a minimal manner, of course.

Meek's Cutoff, however, is unlike most westerns you'll have seen. The filmmaker, shown at left, insists on holding back the camera from many close-ups (if I didn't already know that one of my favorite actors, Bruce Greenwood, played the titular Meek, I'd have remained clueless). She refuses to allow melodrama or even real confrontation (except in one particular moment, which the poster above captures nicely), eschews exposition so that we only slowly piece together the story, and finally offers us just about zero closure. In place of all of the above, Reichardt -- together with her writer/collaborator over these last three movies, Jonathan Raymond --  inserts some interesting ideas, some of which you might call political/philosophical: the misguided trust we place in our leaders, when and how we must finally take our "stand" against them, the power we give to the "other" to both frighten and seduce us, and finally the simple "unknowability" of life ahead.

The movie has a strong feminist slant, though one thankfully not rammed down our throats. Its women characters -- above: Shirley Henderson, left; Zoe Kazan, center; and Michelle Williams, right) are simply more interesting and more seen than its men, who are weak and indecisive followers of Mr. Meek, the only male, other than the boy Jimmy (whose got the energy of youth) to even register. I suppose I ought to include our Indian (Rod Rondeaux, below), but he's clearly more "other" than anything else.

The fellows -- including Paul Dano (below, foreground) who is young and weak; Will Patton, old and weak; and Neal Huff (below, background) sick-unto-death weak -- have a but a single characteristic to distinguish them (this is actually true of the women, as well).

This leaves Meek (anything but weak) to hold the fort, characterization-wise. And Mr. Greenwood, always first-rate, does this -- despite that lack of close-ups and the addition of a large, scruffy beard that conceals him all too well. (The shot below is about as close as the movie gets to his face.)

Between them Reichardt and Raymond, while packing in the ideas, have -- perhaps necessarily, in order to stay true to their minimalist, no-more-exposition-than-would-be-believable framework -- skimped on characterization and the incident that might help create this characterization. Without much detail or even much dialog, the ensemble cast in generally stymied. Meek's Cutoff is a very dry movie, as emotionally remote as Wendy and Lucy was engaging.

In the film's leading role, Ms Williams (above) again proves herself an immensely capable young actress. She is also the film's moral voice, which helps pulls us to her side and keep us as focused on the film as we are.
 
By now you'll have realized that I am not a huge fan of Meek's Cutoff. Artful (to a fault), it offers a number of wonderfully economic shots of the travelers' travails. The opening -- women fording a river, carrying birdcage and baskets above the water -- is one of the more memorable of these. The movie is also as "real" as any western I've seen; it's just not as interesting. I often had to force my mind back into the movie, which, at 104 minutes, is extremely slow-moving.

On the other hand, a month after viewing, the film is still with me, strongly -- in terms of both the negatives and the positives I felt immediately upon seeing it. Which probably means I should take another look in a few years -- if, that is (hello earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear energy and traveling radiation!), we're still here. Meanwhile, Meek's Cutoff opens this Friday April 8, in New York City at Lincoln Plaza Cinema and Film Forum. Click here for the complete list of the many cities -- with dates and theaters -- where you can find the film in the weeks to come.