Ashby starts off like most schoolyard coming-of-age story’s as our main character Ed Wallis (Nat Wolff) arrives at a new town and attempts to fit in at school. When called upon by his teacher on the first day, Ed reveals his extensive knowledge of Ernest Hemingway—instantly earning him nerd status among his classmates. It’s an exaggerated classroom setting for sure, one where chants from the football team can happen at any moment and homosexual slurs are said aloud in front of the teacher. But it does get across the stereotypical slacker personalities of the upcoming Generation Z. In an effort to encourage students to take a break from narcissism, the teacher assigns the class to interview an “old person” and write a 2,000-word report on them. And just so happens that Ed moved in right next door to an older gentleman.

This is when Tony McNamara’s script begins to sound a lot like the plot of last year’s St. Vincent starring Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy. It turns out that Ed is neighbors with a dry-witted crackpot named Ashby (Mickey Rourke) who enjoys drinking and smoking by himself. Ashby is reluctant to answer any of Ed’s questions at first, but maybe because he sees a little of himself in the young kid, the crotchety old man slowly opens up. Ed soon discovers Ashby is a retired CIA assassin with nearly a 100 kills credited to his name, and by driving him around to various locations, he unknowingly gets caught up in the middle of Ashby’s assassin life.

The biggest nuisance of Ashby is that it tries to combine two very different narratives into one cohesive storyline. In one corner is a dark story about a man attempting to absolve his sins and overcome his wrongdoings. And in the other corner is a story of a teenager trying to build enough courage to stand up for himself by trying out for the football team. But there’s no graceful transition between them. So a scene featuring a silly pep talk from the high school football coach is followed by a bloody shootout between Ashby and his next target.

Ashby could’ve been better had it focused on just one of its storylines. While both threads contain a story worth exploring, the attempt to blend the two ends up being a jarring mismatch of tones. This makes it difficult to figure out which audience the film is targetting. Half the time it seems like the film caters to high schoolers, while other times the aim is more towards adults.

Furthermore, by not narrowing the scope of the story, McNamara leaves some interesting subplots unresolved. The most notable example is the abandoned subplot of Eloise (played by a nerdy looking Emma Roberts). For most of the film, she’s determined to study how football players’ brains are impacted by hard hits on the field. But the results of this experiment are left unanswered and completely vanishes from the storyline. In the end, her character merely serves as a love interest of Ed and a much too convenient tie-in with the football theme.

On a positive note, Ashby contains great performances from its cast. Rourke is excellent in portraying a lonely misanthrope who can somehow be redeeming in certain moments. Wolff continues his trend of playing a relatable, yet average high schooler as he has now in recent films like Paper Towns and The Fault In Our Stars. The standout of the film might have been Sarah Silverman had she been given a larger role than the recently divorced sexually active mother. Roberts is excellent too, but also underdeveloped.

Ultimately, if any part of Ashby sounds remotely interesting, you’d be better off watching St. Vincent instead. Not only does it contain a very similar story as Ashby, but the film better in just about every way.

Osgood Perkins’ directorial debut February is the kind of film that’s hard to pin down at first. Primarily taking place at an all-girls’ prep school, it starts off as a sort of teen drama dealing with student drama and a possible pregnancy. At the same time, a second narrative introduces an element of mystery in how it connects to the main storyline at the school. The one thing Perkins seems painfully and obnoxiously intent on is establishing that something sinister is lurking underneath his film’s underexposed surface, with a strand of supernatural horror pulsing just below every scene. Perkins deliberately designs his film to keep the truth hidden, but as each layer peels back it becomes apparent that February is a very, very dumb movie. And it’s all the more insulting because Perkins clearly thinks he’s being clever with his vague dialogue, grating sound design and playfulness with form. There’s nothing wrong with a stupid film, but there is a problem when a stupid film acts like it’s the smartest one in the room.

Split into three sections, each centered around one of the film’s three female protagonists (a choice that’s entirely superfluous, given that each part frequently switches between POVs). The main plot of February focuses on prep school students Rose (Lucy Boynton) and Kat (Kiernan Shipka). It’s winter break at their school, but neither of their parents have shown up. For Rose, it’s not a surprise; she purposely lied about the pick up date to her parents so she could deal with her boyfriend over a pregnancy scare. Kat’s parents, on the other hand, haven’t shown up for some sort of reason. A vague dream sequence alludes to her parents dying in some sort of accident, but how a teenager can hide that fact from her school never gets addressed. The third person in this story is Joan (Emma Roberts), who recently left a hospital and wants to head to the town next to the school. She gets offered a ride from Bill (James Remar) and Linda (Lauren Holly), a religious couple who happen to be headed in the same direction.

Did Perkins just marathon David Lynch and Nicolas Winding Refn movies in order to prepare for his debut? It certainly feels like it, given his liking for overlong pauses in conversations and low, rumbling sounds that only get higher in volume as every exchange keeps going. It’s a cheap attempt to throw some dark undertones over plenty of vague and banal lines of dialogue, lines specifically designed to enhance the aura of mystery. Sometimes, it works; scenes between Joan and Bill early on can feel legitimately menacing because of its ambiguity (it’s hard to tell which one is predator or prey, and Remar and Roberts do a great job at keeping the lines blurred). But Perkins uses this method in almost every scene, which ruins the impact. After getting beaten over the head with “Something’s wrong!” over and over again, it doesn’t take long to stop caring as the tension (quickly) gives way to dullness.

And once Perkins finally shows the hand he’s been keeping close to his chest, it doesn’t come as a big surprise that he was poorly bluffing the entire time. There’s a twist with the Joan storyline in how it fits in with Rose and Kat, but anyone paying a bit of attention to the editing (where loud, sudden flashbacks function as annoying jump scares) should be able to figure the whole thing out before Perkins begins revealing things. The same goes for the supernatural elements that finally creep their way into Kat’s section of the film, but it’s handled so poorly it can feel more like an afterthought than a revelation (the film also has the honour of including one of the lamest exorcism scenes in ages). It isn’t until the very end that Perkins finally brings his main theme to the surface, showing that February is a film about loss, and the desire to find someone (or something) to replace what’s gone. That could have made for an interesting idea when combined with the horror genre; it’s just too bad Perkins decided to dress it all up in a misguided attempt to be clever.

Gia Coppola’s Palo Alto wades through the malaise of modern teen life as well as any movie has in years, reminding us of how dirty and distressing high school life can truly be. Based on a book of short stories by James Franco set in the semi-cushy California city he grew up in, the film depicts everyday-looking adolescents who make bad mistakes and reckon with them. It’s a deceptively truthful approach to the subgenre that few studio productions have the cajones to touch. Coppola does her family name proud and announces herself as an exciting new voice in the cinemasphere.

Coppola takes bits and pieces from Franco’s anthology and strings them together into a cohesive narrative, and the result gels pretty well, structurally. The group of well-off white kids sauntering through their suburban wasteland are all well-drawn and have unique, interesting trajectories. Emma Roberts plays April, a virgin who may or may not have a questionable budding relationship with her soccer coach (Franco), whose son she babysits on the weekends. She also has a bit of a crush on the more appropriately-aged Teddy (Jack Kilmer), a good-natured stoner kid who’s a bit of a screw-up, mostly due to the toxic influence of his reckless, sociopath friend Fred (Nat Wolff). In a sleeper role, Zoe Levin plays Emily, a misguided girl who wants love but doesn’t know how to attract others with anything but her body.

The film opens with Teddy and Fred sitting in a car in an empty parking lot at night, rambling about hypothetical, fantastical teenage boy nonsense because they have nothing else better to do. They accidentally ram the car into the wall in front of them, and with that Coppola has set the tone of the film perfectly. These lost souls are in limbo, too old to stay home all night, and too young to partake in the adult nightlife, so their only option is to shuffle around, drink, smoke, have parties, and break stuff, including themselves.

There isn’t a lot going on plot-wise, which is a good thing, as the film’s identity is more defined as a moving portrait of the modern, suburban teenager. Teddy and Fred are friends not because they’re good for each other (the opposite is true), but mostly because cutting down a tree with a chainsaw tickles them both in the same way. It’s better to be bored together than bored alone, at the very least. When Teddy gets a DUI while driving home from a party, he talks shit to the police officer, establishing again that he isn’t your typical teen movie protagonist, but a confused kid who makes mistakes often.

With a background in photography, Coppola keeps her composure visually, not working too hard to wow us with compositions or colors. As a result the film (which is, in fact, pretty) is tasteful in its imagistic flourishes, flirting with the surreal only at timely, pivotal moments in the characters’ misadventures. For example, when April has her first sexual experience, time seems to stop, and we’re transported to the deepest recesses of her mind as Coppola focuses on her face and heavy breathing, muting out the rest of the world. All of the melodrama that spoils modern teen movies is hushed to almost non-existence here; the film is as moody, dark, and accurately evokes the intensity of teenage bewilderment.

Kilmer and Roberts (both fantastic) are the central characters, but Wolff and Levin have an engaging storyline to navigate as well. The rude, in-your-face Fred finds the promiscuous Emily the perfect play thing for him to exploit and dominate, and their increasingly abusive meetings culminate in a stirring poolside moment that changes them both forever.

What’s significant about Palo Alto is that, even with Coppola’s expressionistic delivery, it’s as accurate a portrayal of today’s teenager you’ll find in movies. It’s an excellent time capsule for future generations. These kids are in limbo, not consumed by future plans like college or careers, but by the most present of issues, big and small. They look and feel real; Teddy plucks on his guitar in his messy room (which is Kilmer’s in real life), April shuts the door and bounces around to music when she gets home from school, and Fred dicks around at the local skatepark. It’s these small, quiet moments in life that Coppola captures so well, moments that seem insignificant at the time but later develop into our most vivid, cherished memories. A shining debut feature.

Originally published on 5/16/2014

Palo Alto trailer

Gia Coppola’s debut feature Palo Alto captures the struggles of modern teens better than any movie in memory. The film is based on a book of short stories by James Franco, who c0-stars in the film alongside young breakouts Jack Kilmer, Emma Roberts, Nat Wolff, and Zoe Levin. A series of interweaving tales of teens partying, getting into late-night trouble, and crushing on all the wrong people encapsulate serious themes of lust, confusion, ego, and young vulnerability.  Atmospheric, honest, and cinematic, the film marks an impressive inaugural artistic statement for the young filmmaker.

During the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival, Coppola spoke with us about the pressures of making her first film, representing teens authentically, begging Jack Kilmer to act for her, James Franco’s strengths as a mentor, bridging the generation gap, and more.

Now that you’re on the other side of making your first film, do you find you enjoy the process of promoting it, introducing it to the world?
Gia: Yes and no. It’s a very important part of the process to talk about your film and try to get it out there, especially because the industry right now is rapidly changing. It’s a very important element in making movies. I didn’t realize that that was a whole other side to it.

So that was a surprise!
Gia: Yeah! (laughs) Having to talk about the film is difficult for me because I feel like I’m so close to it. To think about it generally and try to articulate everything I’ve gone through is hard for me. I’m not good with words; I use pictures to articulate things. It’s fun when the cast is around because I can let them take over. (laughs)

A surprise for me in the film was how authentic the characters’ bedrooms looked. Teenage bedrooms that look fake always bug me in movies for some reason…
Gia: For Teddy’s bedroom we used Jack Kilmer’s real bedroom, and Emma’s bedroom was my old bedroom at my mom’s house when I was in high school. [Zoe Levin’s] bedroom, with all the stuffed animals, we dressed because it was an interesting dynamic to have this young woman who maybe a year ago was playing with stuffed animals, now has a boy in her room. It’s a weird juxtaposition.

I think your film is important in that it accurately represents what the modern teen is like for future generations. If they looked at most other high school movies they’d probably get a terribly wrong impression.
Gia: I feel like the emotions and dynamics surrounding teens haven’t changed over the years. I remember showing the movie to older relatives, and they said, “This is exactly what we went through.” I wanted to show something in an authentic way. Teens in movies today just don’t look real. They don’t smoke cigarettes, they don’t curse, everything’s perfect, the actors are older…using real teenagers was kind of a no-no.

I think you also capture that state of limbo teenagers find themselves in. They’re too old to stay home every night, but they’re too young to really do anything once they get out there, so all they can do is drink at house parties and sit in their cars in parking lots.
Gia: What I remember growing up is just sitting in parking lots, trying to figure out what to do. Those moments seemed so boring and lame at the time, but when you look back on it, those were the best moments.

Did your skills as a photographer translate well to directing film?
Gia: In a sense. I felt very comfortable in the cinematography aspect of things. Filmmaking is an extension of photography, but there’s so much more to incorporate. I was really nervous about working with actors. I’m shy, so that was hard. It’s a collaborative experience, and it was a first feature for all of us, so we were very enthusiastic. We became like a family, and it was really sad when it was over.

Your cast is very normal-looking, in the best way possible. They look like actual, awkward teenagers.
Gia: When I look at teenagers in the real world, they’re so interesting and they have great style. I was trying to reflect that. Because Jack and Nat [Wolff] were 17 at the time, we used their clothes and let them style themselves. It was so much more interesting that way.

You’ve known Jack for a long time.
Gia: I’ve known him since he was 4 years old.

Growing up, did he ever want to act?
Gia: No. I had to chase him down a little bit because, like me, I don’t think he wanted the pressure of what comes along with his background. All of that attention, you know? Now, he really appreciates having that bonding experience and being collaborative and creative with everyone, which I don’t think he was really getting with his friends as much. But no, he didn’t want to take it on at first…but I begged him and he was willing to do it for me. (laughs)

I feel like adults sometimes put too much pressure on their kids because they forget just how intense those teenage years can be. Do you think your film may help teens and parents understand each other a bit better?
Gia: I hope it bridges the gap and both demographics can understand each other a little bit. There’s that point in your life when you understand that parents are human beings, too, and you see them for how they’re just as flawed as you, trying to figure out their own lives. With movies today, teens are made fools of. They just want to get drunk, and there’s not much meaning behind why they do the things they do. It’s such an interesting time for a person. It’s a physical thing; our bodies are changing and you can’t help but feel awkward. James says that teenagers are good subjects for talking about emotions because everything’s on the surface and magnified, so it’s easier to talk about those emotions.

You’ve said that you wanted to stake your own claim as a filmmaker without much help from your family name. Instead, you adopted James as a mentor. What did he teach you?
Gia: He’s totally fearless, and that’s something to admire. His character is really challenging, and it was nice to have him there to teach me how to direct an actor of that caliber. He’s a director, so whenever I’d get stuck he’d help me with the blocking or whatever needed to be done. He has so many talents that he could help with anything I needed.

When James entrusted you with putting his stories to screen, what was your attitude? Were you ready to rise to the challenge, or were you nervous?
Gia: It was a little bit of both. I’d never considered making a feature length film; I was doing photography and had made one little short film. I really loved James’ book, and I was excited at the chance of working with him. He really set the tone, so I didn’t have to feel nervous about anything. I could just enjoy being collaborative with my peers. All of the pressure dropped off and I was just having a good time. We struggled with getting financing, and that was heartbreaking. When we finally started filming, I was in the state of mind of, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” I was so heartbroken that I didn’t want to string myself along anymore. On the first day of shooting I thought, “Oh my god…I’m not ready for this!” But there’s no way to really be ready for your first film. I think that was sort of to my advantage to not have a lot of time and not know what to expect.

It’s crazy to be here [in San Francisco] with the film because I thought it wasn’t going to be in theaters. I really didn’t know what was going to come of this small indie film.

Gia Coppola’s debut film Palo Alto, adapted from James Franco’s collection of short stories, opened last weekend in Los Angeles in New York. The film scored the second highest per screen average of the weekend (only behind the limited release of Jon Favreau’s Chef) and has been a hit with the critics.

Two new clips from the film have been released and can be seen below. Both clips involve the film’s star, Emma Roberts, interacting with two adult men in her life. Also, keep an eye out for our interview with Gia Copploa later today.

“I Think You Should Play Striker” Clip

In the first clip, April’s soccer coach Mr. B (James Franco) offers her a babysitting job. Though a brief and fairly innocuous scene, it is loaded with the subtext of their flirtatious relationship that follows through in the film. Roberts is fantastic here, playing up her shy and cute qualities, leading to the scene’s end moment where she holds a pretty complex expression that reads a million different ways.

“I Corrected Your Paper” Clip

The second clip shows April with a teacher (Val Kilmer). Though there isn’t exactly a lot going on in this clip, it does showcase Kilmer, whose character has an authoritative stoner vibe that could prove quite funny in the film.

SFFS Awards Night

On May 1st, right in the middle of the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival (SFIFF57), the San Francisco Film Society (SFFS) held and awards night gala, honoring some of the industry’s most vital filmmakers and contributors. It was a star-studded event, with Richard Linklater, John Lasseter, Jeremy Irons, screenwriter Stephen Gaghan, and more receiving awards presented by young stars including Zooey Deschanel, Josh Gad, and Parker Posey. Check out pics from the red carpet below:

The Skeleton Twins

On the same night, a few blocks away in Japantown, Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig were in attendance to introduce their dramedy (heavy on the drama) collaboration with director Craig Johnson, The Skeleton Twins. Hader, ever the entertainer, had fun with the press on the red carpet, pretending to cough to screw with photographers (I still managed to snap a couple good ones), and even conducting almost an entire interview in an Australian accent. Check out the hilarity below:

Palo Alto

Adding to the illustrious Coppola family legacy at SFIFF57 was Gia Coppola, niece of Sofia and granddaughter of Francis, with her gritty slice of teen life Palo Alto. Based on a book of short stories written by James Franco (who also acts in the film), it’s the best representation of modern day teens I’ve ever seen, an impressive outing for a first time filmmaker. Coppola and star Emma Roberts made an appearance on the red carpet at the Kabuki, both looking gorgeous as usual. (Photo credit: Adam Clay)

Last Weekend

Taking over the red carpet this past weekend were the directors and stars of Lake Tahoe-set family drama Last Weekend, which made its world premiere at the festival. Many of the ensemble cast were in attendance, including Patricia Clarkson, Joseph Cross, Chris Mulkey, Alexia Rasmussen, Devon Graye, and Fran Kranz. First time co-directors Tom Dolby and Tom Williams (lovingly referred to by the cast members as “Tom-Tom”) celebrated the film’s successful launch on the red carpet with their stars, as well as on a second carpet at the film’s after party. (Photo credit: Adam Clay)

A 3rd generation filmmaker of one of cinema’s most lauded families, Gia Coppola impresses in her debut feature, Palo Alto, an adaptation of a book by James Franco (who’s also in the movie) that captures the listless, limbo-like haze of high school through interweaving stories of several troubled teens. While the film technically falls into the “teen drama” column, its authentic, unapologetically filthy depiction of adolescence sets it apart.

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Photos Courtesy Adam Clay

Much of Palo Alto‘s authenticity stems from its cast, all appropriately aged (this is important) and all quite…normal looking. It’s a good thing, as most teen movies’ stars are too prettied up to be relatable. Jack Kilmer, son of Val (who makes a brief, comical appearance), and Emma Roberts lead the brilliant cast, who all convince as conflicted, bored, lustful youths partying, getting in trouble, and goofing around in parking lots. Coppola, a photographer whose work impressed Franco enough to entrust the stories of his hometown to her, has a natural eye for composition and color, capturing the intensity and urgency of teen life with her luscious, moody imagery. Each character is chaotically emotional and has a unique set of inner conflicts to reckon with. This is the best representation of modern teens in memory.

SFIFF57 offered up another debut feature, this time from co-directors Tom Dolby and Tom Williams with the world premier of the Lake Tahoe-set Last Weekend. A family drama about an affluent couple (Patricia Clarkson and Chris Mulkey) hosting their spoiled adult children and their significant others for a weekend in their home on the sparkling lake, the film has its moments but is hampered by a script that needs more sharpening. Watching entitled rich folk complain about everything while feasting in paradise is a joke that gets old quick.

Click to view slideshow.
Photos Courtesy Adam Clay

The film, which has almost zero plot to speak of (not a knock), is completely fueled by the contentious family dynamics. The savvy young cast, which includes Zachary Booth, Alexia Rasmussen (Proxy), Joseph Cross (Milk), Devon Graye (Dexter), and Jayma Mays (Glee), all approaching their prime, embody their bratty roles tastefully, never going overboard or outshining each other. Clarkson and Mulkey guide them along, and the fresh faces keep up without a stutter. Cross and Clarkson share some particularly venomous scenes together, epic mother-son spats that steal the show. Fran Kranz (Cabin in the Woods) and Rutina Wesley (True Blood) play nothing roles that amount to a well-acted waste of time.

Tsai Ming-Liang made a Miyazaki-like announcement at the premiere of his new film Stray Dogs in Venice that the stunning film about an impoverished family would be his last, to the sadness of many arthouse aficionados. The lauded auteur is leaving the cinema world on a high note, however, as Stray Dogs is as gorgeous, boundary-pushing, and incomparable as his previous work (What Time is it There?, The Hole).

As has become his signature style, Tsai presents his tale in a series of fixed, ultra-long shots whose uncompromisingly elongated form reveals intricacies and shifting emotion unseeable by way of conventional quick cuts or even shots like Scorsese’s Copacabana classic. Spectacle is not the objective here, with the shot lengths surpassing the ten minute mark in some cases. Tsai paints a dark, stark portrait of a family living in squalor on the streets of Taipei. We see the children bathe in a dingy public restroom, the father hold up advertising signs at a busy intersection in the pouring rain. It’s a haunting, gut-wrenching film, and one whose beauty lies not just in Tsai’s immaculately composed shots, but in the 4th dimension of time itself. And you don’t even have to shell out an extra ten bucks for 4-D glasses!

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the festival so far has been Craig Johnson’s The Skeleton Twins, which from movie stills ostensibly appears to be a star vehicle for SNL all-stars Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig, but actually turns out to be an unexpectedly affecting sibling drama peppered with funny moments for the comedians to please loyalists. Hader and Wiig play the titular troubled siblings Milo and Maggie, each with self-destructive tendencies.

Click to view slideshow.
After ten years of not speaking, Maggie invites her brother to stay with her after a suicide attempt. She’s in denial about her dissatisfaction with her marriage to the cheerful Lance (Luke Wilson) while Milo, an emotional wreck more aware of his fatal flaws, struggles to tie up loose ends in his past life while trying desperately to keep Maggie afloat in her failing marriage. It would be fair to categorize The Skeleton Twins as a dramedy, though the dramatic element is more intensified here than your average Apatow effort. It’s a dark movie, and Hader and Wiig’s comedic chops translate well to the emotional spectrum of acting (Wiig’s already proven this, but this is Hader’s first dramatic leading role). In fact, the laughs sometimes outstay their welcome, as the comedic scenes are egregiously tailored to the actors’ signature personas and distract from their better, dramatic character moments. This one’s definitely worth keeping on your radar.