It always feels important to rediscover an established filmmaker’s earliest work. There’s a unique artistic pleasure in dissecting the roots, looking for the under-developed thematic, narrative or formalistic signs of eventual greatness—almost as if we are over-analyzing a childhood to reconcile why someone became a serial killer. With its re-release at the IFC Center in New York on Friday, March 11th, our eyes fix on Kelly Reichardt’s River of Grass. It’s difficult to find reviews of the film from its premiere at the 1994 Sundance Film Festival and its subsequent limited theatrical release, but by all accounts, it received solid buzz considering it was a debut film. River of Grass was nominated for the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance when the festival was at the height of its grassroots independent glory. Interestingly, Tom Noonan’s directorial debut What Happened Was (a film by a notable filmmaker that has been similarly forgotten) won the prize, which competed in a lineup that included Clerks, Spanking the Monkey and Hoop Dreams—three films that cemented the cultural importance of Sundance at the time. Twelve years after River of Grass, Reichardt made her breakout film Old Joy and has been on an indie cred tear ever since.

River of Grass stars Lisa Bowman as Cozy, a bored wife and mother, stuck in a boring life with a boring family in a boring community. Restless, she decides to hit the bar one night, abandoning her motherly responsibilities in the process. She meets Lee Ray (Larry Fessenden), a young slacker who has recently come into the possession of a gun. They connect, leave the bar together and eventually get into some trouble because of that loaded gun. Cozy and Lee Ray are now tied together by murder, a bond which Cozy notes is stronger than the bond of marriage. The two leads give very fine, understated performances, with Bowman particularly good in the weirder and quieter moments. Fessenden, in one of his earliest performance, brings energy to the film.

The film is very much in line with the 1990s Sundance indie from which it came. The offbeat characters, loose narrative, crime elements and hushed voice-over are all trademarks of its time, which gives the film a bit of a time capsule feeling. It also has an up-front comedic sense that we don’t associate with most of Reichardt’s films, but was definitely a part of indie cinema at the time. From a recurring joke with a profane punchline and weird character moments, the film is consistently funny. Sometimes it’s absurd too, like when Cozy and Lee Roy are on the lam only to be revealed they are in the same city as where they started. It’s the standard couple-on-the-run plot through the ’90s slacker sensibility. They see themselves as dangerous bandits but are ultimately too chickenshit to run through a toll stop. When they do eventually try to leave southern Florida, they fail in about the most pathetic way possible. Even Cozy’s monotone voice-over becomes humorous in its super serious pseudo-philosophy: Cozy’s realization of “If we weren’t killers, we weren’t anything,” for example.

For Reichardt, River of Grass is very much in line with her look at small communities. The film’s title comes from a Native nickname for the Everglades, the Florida swampland only miles outside of Miami with the complete opposite aesthetic. Instead of the bright fluorescent lights, beaches and nightclubs, the “River of Grass” is rural with miles of flat land dissected by lonely highways. The inhabitants are working-class and semi-transient, similar to their Northwest counterparts in Wendy and Lucy and Old Joy.

At less than 80 minutes, the film reveals itself as more of a slice-of-life than it seemed. This is perhaps what makes River of Grass most like its auteur’s work. All of Reichardt’s films, no matter how profound, emotionally or thematically rich, are very much a moment in their characters’ lives. Like Meek’s Cutoff, River of Grass ends with a particular sense of dread, but just open-ended enough not to pin down. Certainly, Reichardt could have expanded Cozy and Lee Ray’s life, added more debauchery or heightened the stakes of their criminal fall-out, but she chose to keep the narrative shaggy and simple—sure, the ultra-strapped indie budget probably had a practical effect on the film’s length, but there is the beginning of a narrative line here.

I don’t know why River of Grass didn’t immediately achieve a cult reception similar to Reservoir Dogs, True Romance, Clerks or other films similar in their time and space, but thankfully Kelly Reichardt persevered, allowing you to take a look back to over-analyze or simply discover the roots of one of today’s most important filmmakers. It shouldn’t be forgotten, however, that River of Grass is a very good debut in its own right. The film is often funny, often elusive, and very confident in its style and narrative presentation.

Somewhere buried in Kelly Reichardt‘s slice-of-life film, Certain Women, there’s a unified message of empowerment and alienation. Getting to this message, however, is an excruciating test of one’s patience. This is mostly by design as Reichardt focuses on aesthetics and mood more than the film’s narrative. The first story follows Laura (Laura Dern), a lawyer representing a client (Jared Harris) who insists he’s entitled to a workers’ comp settlement, despite being told repeatedly that he has no case. The shortest, and least developed, story is the second one, which involves a husband and wife (James Le Gros and Michelle Williams) constructing a remote weekend getaway home for their family. And the final story is about a Native American horse rancher (Lily Gladstone) who falls for a young lawyer (Kristen Stewart) teaching night classes, an innocent attraction that turns into blatant stalking.

The source material for Certain Women came from a collection of short stories and the film’s format reflects this directly. While each segment contains well-developed characters in unique circumstances, Reichardt drops us right into the middle of a story that’s already unfolding. Details of how the characters got where they are, or where they are going next, are excluded, a technique that can be frustrating. Shot gorgeously on 16mm, Certain Women is a studious slow burner that should appease fans of the auteur filmmaker while others may be left scratching their heads.

Rating:
6.5/10

Tomorrow night, the 57th annual San Francisco International Film Festival (April 24-May 8) kicks off its program of 168 films representing 56 countries. Seeing every film in that span of time is a veritable impossibility (though San Francisco is full of sun-depraved cine-maniacs ready to jump at the challenge), so we’re going to take a look at some of the highlights in the festival’s catalog for anyone planning on hopping over to the Bay Area and joining in on the fun.

Opening up the festival tomorrow night at the Castro Theater is Hossein Amini’s The Two Faces of January, a Greece-set suspense thriller starring Kirsten Dunst and Viggo Mortensen, an American couple on holiday who find themselves inextricably linked to a shifty tour guide (Oscar Isaac) after a fatal accident in a hotel room forces them to frantically find a way out of the country. Evoking Hitchcock’s touristic action-romance romps, the film should send the festival on its way nicely.

Speaking of being on holiday, Michael Winterbottom’s The Trip to Italy (pictured above) looks to walk on the lighter side of vacationing. A sequel to 2011’s The Trip, the film stars English funnymen Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon playing inflated versions of themselves as they, like in the first film, take a culinary tour of expensive restaurants, making each other chuckle along the way with improvised chatter and–of course–spot-on Michael Caine impressions.

On the darker side of traveling lies Kumiko, the Treasure Hunter, about a sociopath Japanese office assistant who flies to Fargo, North Dakota in search of a buried treasure she glimpsed in the famous Coen Brothers movie. For some reason, she believes a suitcase full of money buried in the snow by Steve Buscemi in a fictional movie exists in real life…and that totally piques my interest for some reason…

The film that’s got me frothing in anticipation more than any other is Night Moves (pictured above), by ridiculously talented writer/director Kelly Reichardt (Meek’s Cutoff, Wendy and Lucy). It’s a safe bet that, like her previous films, we’ll be treated to a smorgasbord of deliciously cinematic imagery to support a wholly unique script (set, as in all her previous efforts, in Oregon). The political thriller stars Jesse Eisenberg and Dakota Fanning as environmentalist lovebirds who, with marine veteran Peter Sarsgaard, hatch a plan to blow up a dam. This one looks to be a less contemplative and more narrative-driven movie than we’re used to seeing from Reichardt, which excites me to no end.

The fest’s centerpiece presentation is the Bay Area-set teenage drama Palo Alto, directed by Gia Coppola and starring Emma Roberts, James Franco, and Jack Kilmer. Based on a book of short stories written by Franco about his experience growing up in the titular Bay Area community, the film aims to be a more authentic take on teenage life than your typical high school drama, casting appropriately-aged actors in all roles and eschewing tropes like stereotypical clique dynamics.

Richard Linklater is set to receive the Founder’s Directing Award at SFIFF, and he’s bringing Boyhood, his much buzzed-about coming-of-age movie, along with him. We’ve all heard by now that the film is pretty good and that it took  an unprecedented 12 years to make, which is reason enough to check out the film at the festival, but sweetening the deal is that a career highlight reel of the indie pioneer will also be shown, and Linklater will participate in an on-stage interview. Doesn’t get much cooler than that!

There are two films with the word “Summer” in the title playing at the festival, but seriously, they couldn’t be any more different. Stanley Nelson (Freedom Riders) chronicles the rise of the Civil Rights movement in his powerful documentary Freedom Summer, focusing on the significant, eruptive events in Mississippi in the summer of 1964. Director Michael Tully’s nostalgia comedy Ping Pong Summer (pictured above), set in a 1985 Maryland beach town, follows 13-year-old Rad Miracle (Marcello Conte) as a simple family vacation turns into one of the most memorable summers of his life.

Closing out the festival is actor-turned-director Chris Messina’s Alex of Venice, starring Mary Elizabeth Winstead as the titular workaholic attorney, whose negligence of her family drives her husband (Messina) to walk out of their lives. As Alex’s strictly organized life begins to spiral out of control, she scrambles to restore some semblance of order, in the process discovering what’s truly important to her. The film also stars Don Johnson as Winstead’s father in a standout role.

For more information and ticketing info, visit sffs.org

My previous day at TIFF was originally going to comprise of four films as well, but unfortunately I had to bail out of one film due to pure tiredness (I’ll keep the film’s title unnamed here, but if it wasn’t for my physical limitations I would have stayed since it was good from what I saw). Luckily, I was able to chug through my second four-film day without a hitch, but I’ve learned now that it’s not something I should try more than once.

Night Moves

I decided to start my big day with Night Moves, which turned out to be the worst possible film to choose as a starting point. I’ve been a fan of Kelly Reichardt’s work from what I’ve seen, and was excited to see her approach being used on a genre film. Three activists from different walks of life get together to pull off a dangerous act of ‘eco-terror’: They buy a boat and rig it with explosives, hoping to blow up a dam. Theoretically what Reichardt is attempting here is interesting in its own right. Her stripped down style getting applied to a thriller makes for some neat moments, and the way things unravel so the three characters become corrupted by the same selfish behavior they abhor is a nice development.

The only problem is that Reichardt’s approach is bone dry, sucking out all of the tension and forward momentum. Paradoxically, while the main group (played by Jesse Eisenberg, Dakota Fanning and Peter Sarsgaard who all do their best at understating as much as possible) feel well-defined and realistic as characters, the tone of the film is so distant it’s impossible to feel anything about them. The last time Reichardt took a crack at a genre film it was the western with Meek’s Cutoff, which worked wonderfully. This time I think she simply picked the wrong area to work with. Hopefully next time she’ll be successful again with whatever she chooses.

RATING: 5.9

Gravity

Next up was the film that I had been waiting for since it was announced back in July: Gravity. Alfonso Cuaron spent seven years developing his follow-up to the brilliant Children of Men, and it’s apparent from the start just how much effort went into this film. The special effects are incredible, and it will be impossible to watch this without wondering exactly how they pulled off some moments. So Gravity does deliver in the spectacle department, but that’s mostly it. Granted it’s really good at it, and it’s an easy recommendation, but this is far from the new classic that people have been going on about.

Gravity is merely a well-done thriller that never lets up pacing-wise. Starting right in space with Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), a new astronaut, and a veteran on his last mission (George Clooney), it takes all but 10 minutes before debris from a satellite crash has Bullock and Clooney flying in opposite directions with nothing to hold on to. That’s merely the start of the many, many problems Bullock encounters while she frantically tries to make it back to Earth alive, and by the end the amount of near-death experiences become absurd (and it drew some laughter from the audience as well).

There really won’t be anything better this year on a technical level, but Gravity is far too basic to enjoy beyond the surface. Bullock and Clooney are terrific in their roles, making the most of the little material they’re given. Bullock is given some backstory to work with, but the film’s suffocating and repetitive pace drown out any emotional impact. I know that what I’m saying sounds very negative about the film, but it’s mostly because I came away disappointed that Gravity did not live up to my high expectations. There are some truly incredible sequences in here, and for a studio tentpole it’s quite original, but don’t expect a masterpiece.

RATING: 7

October November

Continuing my strange tonal shifts in films throughout the day, I went to check out October November. Gotz Spielmann’s last film Revanche blew me away when I saw it years ago, and at the beginning I was expecting more of the same riveting drama when an actress (Nora von Waldstätten) is confronted by the wife of a man she’s having an affair with. That scene turns out to be the only moment where fireworks go off, as the focus shifts to the actress’ sister (Ursula Strauss) who runs a small hotel in the countryside owned by her father.

The two sisters reunite when their father takes a heart attack, and the tensions between them form the basis for October November. Strauss is jealous of her sister leaving to be successful while she was forced to stay at home, and Waldstätten feels like she has no idea who she really is. It’s another existential European drama, and Spielmann really doesn’t seem to know how to get these issues across. The majority of October November is a no-stakes drama until the final act sees the two daughters waiting for their father to finally pass away. Despite being superbly shot and acted, there really is very little to get interested in. There’s no doubt that Spielmann is still a mature and terrific writer/director, but he seems to have invested in subject matter that returns very little.

RATING: 6

Under the Skin

I ended my day with Jonathan Glazer’s Under the Skin, and what a way to close off my long weekend at TIFF. I’m not over the moon like some people who have seen this, but I can’t blame them for being so ecstatic. Glazer is a master of style, and his 9 year absence seems to have made his images even more striking. The film’s first half, which simply follows Scarlett Johansson’s alien character around as she seduces men to a horrific fate, works as an excellent mood piece. Glazer has created some shots that will probably stick with me more than any other film I’ve seen here, and Micah Levi’s score is one of the best of the year by leaps and bounds.

It pained me a lot when Under the Skin didn’t coalesce into something wholly terrific for me. The second half of the film, in which Johansson gains human qualities and gets hunted down by her alien superiors, is a step down from the beautifully expressive and original first half. Glazer seems to have a hard time getting across what he wants to say at some points (his goal, to show Earth through an outsider’s perspective, wasn’t exactly successful in my eyes), and while Johansson is great her role is too enigmatic to make any of the final acts resonate. At times horrifying, beautiful and strange, Under the Skin is a classic case of a film not adding up to the sum of its parts.

RATING: 6.9

Next up:

Ben Wheatley’s hallucinogenic trip through A Field in England, and the best film I’ve seen at TIFF.