Capone's Art-House Round-Up with MISTRESS AMERICA, DIGGING FOR FIRE and the H.R. Giger doc DARK STAR!!!

Hey, folks. Capone in Chicago here, with a few films that are making their way into art houses or coming out in limited release around America this week (maybe even taking up one whole screen at a multiplex near you). Do your part to support these films, or at least the good ones…


MISTRESS AMERICA
"From the team that brought you FRANCES HA..." For many of you, the fact that director/co-writer Noah Baumbach and actor/co-writer Greta Gerwig have re-teamed so soon after that highly likable film should be cause for celebration. But there are certainly those among you who can't stand either or both of these artists for reasons I'm not quite clear on. They both have found ways to add a bit of whimsy and intellectual flair to indie films over the last 10 years, and their pairing as collaborators makes a great deal of sense. Their latest work, MISTRESS AMERICA, is a different animal entirely from FRANCES HA, despite the set up seeming similar.

Again starting with the premise of a female friendship, the film is seen through the eyes of Tracy (Lola Kirke), a New York college freshman who's a bit disappointed in her overall New York experience. When she finds out that her mother is about to get remarried to a man with a daughter just a little older than her, also living in the city, Tracy seeks out her future stepsister Brooke (Gerwig), and the two spend a little time getting crazy together.

Brooke's existence is the personification of stream of consciousness; she talks as fast as she moves; she speaks and acts in non-sequiturs; and whether the wind blows strongest and the loudest noises are coming from, that's where you'll find her. She's got a million ideas, including one for a restaurant that might also be a space for creativity to grow and expand in its customers, and she's almost pulled together the money to start building it. 



There are few actresses that could pull off Brooke the way Gerwig does, with her innate sense of controlled chaos with a touch of would-be artist who doesn't actually possess any artistic talent. Brooke may infuriate or frustrate some viewers, but I found her unlikely combination of misplaced confidence and complete uncertainty about every aspect of her life rather refreshing. But good luck keeping track of the flow of information that flows from her brain.

Comparatively speaking, Tracy appears to be standing still. Before meeting Brooke, she's struggling to pull together a few paragraphs for a writing class. But after spending time with her spontaneous new friend, she's suddenly inspired with creativity, or something akin to it. In fact what she does is write stories about Brooke, changing very few of the details and casting a great deal of judgment upon her behavior.

In a desperate search for a few thousand more dollars of seed money for her restaurant idea, Brooke seeks help from an old boyfriend, who was (according to her) stolen away by her best friend in a thermonuclear parting of the ways. Tracy and Brooke head to the suburbs to find the couple hoping to guilt them into investing in the business, and once at the house, Mistress America makes a tonal shift into a 1940s slapstick theater piece, with rapid-fire dialogue, long unbroken takes that frame the entire small group in the house in a single shot. And it was in this extended sequence that went from liking the film to really admiring its ambition.

In a sense, MISTRESS AMERICA is a coming-of-age story for both women, but their progression toward maturity isn't about falling in love or getting together with a man. In a sense, men are purely secondary to their lives. Brooke's long-distance significant other is never actually seen and rarely discussed; and the only man that Tracy shows any interest in is a fellow student who she assumes has a crush on her only to discover he's got a new girlfriend. Tracy never wanted to date him, but she seems slightly bothered that he doesn't like her more. Much like FRANCES HA, men are not the end-all solution to problems, nor are they significant enough to be the cause of them. They're just other players in these women's lives, and that might be the most substantial element of this work. There are a few bizarre little films floating around right now, but MISTRESS AMERICA might be the most interesting.


DIGGING FOR FIRE
Who would have guessed that one of the year's most star-studded ensembles would land in the latest work from writer-director Joe Swanberg (DRINKING BUDDIES), the Chicago-based filmmaker who returns to his more free-floating roots with DIGGING FOR FIRE, which he co-wrote with the film's star Jake Johnson ("The New Girl," JURASSIC WORLD). Lest you think Swanberg is making a play for full-on mainstream acceptance, his latest is largely plot-free and certainly resolution-free, allowing his enormous cast to work their way through a story about a married couple still getting used to parenthood (Swanberg's son and HAPPY CHRISTMAS star Jude makes an essential cameo), who takes a couple of days off from each other to see what life offers them free of all societal burdens.

Johnson plays Tim, husband to Lee (Rosemarie DeWitt), and one night while housesitting for friends, Lee decides she needs to drop their son off with her mother (Judith Light) and stepdad (the ever-present Sam Elliott). It doesn't take long for her to meet the handsome Ben (Orlando Bloom), who helps her against a drunken asshole at a bar. Before long, the flirtatiousness gets fairly overt and borderline inappropriate.

Tim begins the film digging around the yard of the house he's looking after and finds a beaten-up pistol and what he believes is a human bone. After the police blow him off (unless he finds a whole skeleton), he continues to excavate, annoying Lee to the point where she decides to leave. Tim is supposed to be doing their complicated taxes, but not long after Lee is gone, he invites a bunch of friends and barely acquaintances to raid the liquor cabinet and do some more digging. Characters played by the likes of Mike Birbiglia, Sam Rockwell, Anna Kendrick, and Brie Larson arrive, and it just becomes a very funny improvisational free for all in terms of both action and dialogue, with Rockwell probably being the most memorable—not surprising in the slightest.

Eventually even more dangerous flirting begins between Tim and Larson's Max, who seems to be the only party guest really curious about the artifacts being dug up on the perimeter of the house (and yes, more suspicious items are uncovered). As with many of Swanberg's more stream-of-consciousness works, he shows a real gift for finding collaborative actors who actually find interesting aspects to their characters and turns them into enjoyable conversation that sometimes borders on insightful. An added bonus to DIGGING FOR FIRE is that it marks Swanberg's first film ever to be shot in 35mm (especially curious for a filmmaker who a certain style of fast and cheap films shot digitally), once again working with cinematographer Ben Richardson (Swanberg's last two films, as well as BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD).

If you have a hang up about plot, you may be in for a shock. (Swanberg once told me in an interview "Plot is my enemy." He was only half joking.) DIGGING FOR FIRE is more about experience, characterizations, and finding truth through unscripted conversation. It almost feels like an unexpected bonus that the film has so many laughs on top of that. And a healthy combination of finding a possible murder site and lots of drugs & alcohol open up the flood gates to talk about the things in life that are most meaningful. The talk never feels heavy or burdensome, even though the subject matters are substantial. Above all other things, that might be the trademark of Swanberg's best works. It's also a parable about marriage, compromise and how much truth we really want to know about our significant others. It's about all things; it's about nothing; and if you have an open mind about cinema, you'll see it's about opening up to new experiences—both scary and joyful.


DARK STAR: H.R. GIGER’S WORLD
For those who only know the dark and foreboding work of Swedish painter and sculptor H.R. Giger (who passed away a little more than a year ago) through his designs he did for the first Alien film, you have a lot to learn, and the new documentary DARK STAR: H.R. GIGER’S WORLD is a pretty exhaustive place to start, chronicling decades of his unique brand of biomechanical landscapes and creatures that were somehow part fleshy, part machine, and all agony.

The art work has become the stuff of iconic posters, album covers, tattoos, and more recently, gallery exhibitions. And while the film attempts to dig into Giger's childhood and personal life to find out where this haunting outlook on the world stems from, it also provides an in-depth look at the small circle of family and long-time friends who assist him in getting through his day-to-day operations. DARK STAR covers Giger's years as a fringe artist, leading into his work on Alien, which propelled him the forefront of pop culture success stories, while still struggling to find his place in the art community.

First-time feature filmmaker Belinda Sallin seems to have gotten fairly extraordinary access to Giger, a sweet and largely unassuming man who died shortly after filming ended, following him from convention to museums to the darkest corners of a compact, appropriate decorated home and work space. The film only gives us glimpses of the artist actually at work, using what appears to be an air brush to capture such nightmarish images.

I wish the film had spent just a little time going over Giger's contribution to Alejandro Jodorowsky's failed attempt to adapt Frank Herbert's"Dune" into a film using Giger's production designs--work that was seen by Ridley Scott, who hired Giger for Alien not long after Dune fell through. Perhaps Sallin opted to skip over that project simply because the doc JODOROWSKY’S DUNE covered that aspect of the never-made film so completely. Either way, DARK STAR captures the active and moving final years of Giger's life and career quite sublimely, and places him appropriately high in the modern art history pantheon as one of the most recognizable artists of the last 100 years.

-- Steve Prokopy
"Capone"
capone@aintitcool.com
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