24 Exposures

Dustin Jansick — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Unlike his mainstream-ish crossover Drinking Buddies, Joe Swanberg returns to his less refined style in 24 Exposures, a film that is reminiscent of his earlier work by featuring girls in various stages of undress, non-professional actors, low-budget production values, improvisation, a personal cameo, and relationship struggles at the heart of the story. In this indie crime thriller, Swanberg explores the dark fetishes of voyeurism and obsession with some bold self-aware concepts. However, the director and his alumni crew have more fun presenting these concepts than actually making them effective, which makes the results of 24 Exposures far too underwhelming to make a lasting impression.

Right off the bat, Swanberg begins by playing with genre conventions. With sinister music playing in the background, the camera pans over a lake slowly revealing a pale woman lying lifeless and unclothed on the shore. Then a voice is heard, “Alright we got it,” and the woman stands up and the camera pulls overhead to expose the crew working on this photo shoot. Because the main character Billy (Adam Wingard) is a photographer who creates erotic murder scenes, it is often difficult to tell if what is happening on screen is real or just another prop for his scene. 24 Exposures keeps the audience on their toes by establishing early on that things are not quite what they seem.

Billy comes off as kind of a sketchy dude. Though considering he is a fetish photographer who is surrounded by naked women and fake crime scenes, it is understandable that he is slightly peculiar. In a scene near the beginning of the film, Billy nonchalantly has a threesome with his girlfriend and her attractive friend. Yet in the very next scene, the three of them are at a restaurant where he not-so-subtly takes interest in the waitress. The fact he has an eye for beauty is plausible given that he works with scantily clad models for a living, but the film presents him as someone who might be too devoted to his line of work.

This kind of misdirection comes pretty standard with murder mysteries, but Swanberg has fun tweaking the formula to contain an element of self-awareness which results in a plot twist ending. While these twists give a little depth to the otherwise simplistic plot, the payoff is not as compelling as it could have been. This ineffectiveness likely stems from a combination of unconvincing performances and the film’s straight-to-the-point runtime allowance (a brisk 77 minutes).

However, Swanberg succeeds in what he normally gets right, relationship dynamics. In 24 Exposures, the director explores relationship conflicts that most people can relate to, despite the main character being a nude photographer. Sexual insecurities arise when Billy’s girlfriend finds out he may be taking advantage of his work privileges and also when a jealous boyfriend suspects his partner of cheating on him. These relatable relationship quarrels help give that naturalistic quality which is typically found in Swanberg’s work.

24 Exposures has some fun with the murder mystery genre, but the film ultimately feels more like a proof of concept experiment than a fully fleshed out production. There are some nice ideas and flourishes added to standard fare, yet the film lacks the necessary substance in order to make an impactful conclusion. At the very least, Swanberg demonstrates some creative interpretation of how a low-budget erotic crime thriller can be more than just a bunch of girls taking off their tops—though the film has plenty of that as well.

24 Exposures trailer

Red Flag (SFJFF Review)

Bernard Boo — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Alex Karpovsky (most famously known for his work in Lena Dunham’s Girls and Tiny Furniture) plays an (assumedly) extra-neurotic version of himself á la Larry David in Red Flag, a meta dark comedy that’s somehow both navel-gazey and droningly indifferent. The film opens with Karpovsky being unceremoniously booted out of the life (and apartment) of his girlfriend of seven years (Caroline White). With angst and heartache bubbling beneath his Brooklyn-indie button-ups and sweatshirts, we follow him as he tours the Southern states showing his real-life sophomore film, Woodpecker, in tiny arthouse theaters and college campuses, slinging DVD’s for extra cash.

After a routine Q&A, he hooks up with a clingy indie groupie (Jennifer Prediger, playing an obsessive psycho version of Rachel Leigh Cook in She’s All That.) As the tour rolls on, Karpovsky is joined by the Prediger, his old friend (Onur Tukel, who forms a love connection with Prediger), and White, who he’s convinced to give him a second chance (after loads of overly-wordy begging that echoes John Cusack in High Fidelity.) When the truth about Karpovsky and Prediger’s one-night-stand surfaces, the group implodes.

Red Flag had me chuckling through my nose consistently throughout, but not once did it evoke the kind of belly laughs I get from the work of Woody Allen and Larry David (whose humor Karpovsky clearly derives from.) He’s got the right idea, but lacks finesse. Though I struggled to connect with his style of anxiety-fueled humor, he shows clear potential (a naggy phone exchange with his real-life Russian mother is a highlight.)

The film’s running gags—one involving Karpovsky swapping the word “frittata” for “fuck” as an anger-management exercise, and another in which he pleads with hotel managers for a late morning checkout—woefully fall into “diminishing returns” territory. Every time he’d “nerd-rage” on inanimate objects (a frequent occurrence), the triteness of it all would chop my interest down a notch.

The film looks pretty crummy, as drab as the yellow two-star motels Karpovsky and company laze through. It’s difficult to recall any interesting shots, though the cast occupies the screen well; they all have interesting faces and, more importantly, put on fine performances. Tukel in particular kept me engaged with his infectious bearded grin and weirdo optimism. Karpovsky’s 21^st century neurotic nerd shtick (familiar to fans of his work on Girls) feels energy-deprived here. Whenever the film ventures into dark, existential territory it ends up feeling a bit weightless due to Karpovsky’s apathetic delivery. He does, however, hit his stride in scenes where he’s able to vocalize his character’s labyrinthine thought process.

Karpovsky has easy chemistry with his co-stars and the clever dialogue flows naturally, which shows skill—the script is simply a rough outline for the actors to follow and fill in the blanks as they shoot (a system utilized by Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm that affords the actors plenty of breathing room.) Though the premise of Red Flag is meta by nature, at the end of the day it amounts to little more than a decently entertaining yet largely dispensable road trip movie.

Caroline White – Way Too Indie

24 Exposures

24 Exposures trailer

Red Flag (SFJFF Review)

Red Flag trailer: