A moody, sexy drama with bursts of black comedy sprinkled throughout, Concussion takes familiar themes–infidelity, complacency, mid-life anxiety–and explores them from the fresh perspective of a fascinating (if a little unsympathetic) protagonist, a lesbian suburban housewife named Abby (Robin Weigert). Writer-director Stacie Passon’s debut feature is an accomplished first statement, with polished visuals, strong performances, and an ending that leaves you with a lot to chew on after leaving the theater.

After getting beaned in the head by a softball flung at her (inadvertently) by her son, Abby is driven to the hospital by her wife (Julie Fain Lawrence) when she’s hit again, this time by an epiphany. She squeals, “I don’t want this. I don’t want it” as tears and blood stream down her face. Living the lackadaisical life of a stay-at-home mom has finally broken her down, and it’s this moment of minivan mom misery that eventually drives her to lead a second life as a hooker, awakening a sex-hungry other side of her that she’s never met, or at least hasn’t seen in a very long time.

While renovating a loft in Manhattan with her muscly, straight man-friend, Justin (Jonathan Tchaikovsky), Abby confesses her interest in employing the services of prostitutes. Justin, a sleazeball dunderhead (but a friendly one), has the bright idea to have her become a hooker herself–she’ll get the sex she craves, (things are running a little dry with the wifey) and she’ll get paid for it.

In the film’s slightly bloated middle section, Abby (who goes by Eleanor on the job) meets several female clients, some young, some old, and has curious, often hilarious interactions with all of them (along with, of course, soft-core sexual relations). Weigert gets a lot to do here, as she interacts with each client in a different way. She gets to be a prowling temptress, a helpless victim, and even a nurturing mother figure, to a young, shy college student to whom she provides sexual guidance. Each meeting with the clients helps to flesh out Abby as a character, but as a whole, these trysts ultimately feel like one big showcase for Weigert’s immense talent.

Passon’s tale of housewife turned hooker shares elements with other films that explore prostitution, (above all, Belle de Jour comes to mind) but together, Passon and Weigert have created a unique character in Abby, whose mystique and tortured allure make her plight more magnetic on screen than it is on paper. Weigert expresses such raw emotion and longing with her face and body language it’s startling; early in the film (pre-Eleanor), when she’s touched by a beautiful prostitute she’s hired for herself (the gorgeous Maggie Siff), she’s so balled up with sexual anticipation and anxiety that her body locks up, stiff as a board, and her face glitches out in an attempt to wrangle the zillion emotions bursting inside her. Passon captures intimacy and sexuality on camera so well that the intensity borders on nail-biting.

The Manhattan loft out of which Abby runs her business is a character in itself, gradually evolving from empty, white box to lavishly decorated modern nook, symbolizing Abby’s quest for self. Passon and DP David Kruta are aggressively atypical with their compositions and colors, framing things from unexpected angles and overwhelming the screen with evocative monotones. Visually, Passon lays the story out beautifully. At home in suburbia, Abby’s an empty shell, captured in a wonderful shot of her sitting on a bed next to a mushroom cloud of laundry, despair and gloom drowning the room. In the apartment, she’s a sexual and spiritual adventurer, discovering bits of herself as she and her clients explore every inch of each other. Which life is best for Abby? Thankfully, Passon lets us decide.

In Concussion, first-time writer-director Stacie Passon gives us a glimpse into the doldrums of lesbian suburbia and how a bored housewife (Robin Weigert), awakened to her unfulfilling malaise by her son (who conks her in the head with a baseball), attempts to unleash her true inner-self by becoming a hooker. Unoriginal this movie is not, in a most beautiful, sensual, riveting way.

Hours before the screening of Concussion at San Francisco’s Frameline Film Festival back in June, Stacie Passon chatted with us at The Hilton San Francisco Union Square Hotel about living in the suburbs, her experience at the IFP Narrative Lab, the best week of her life, Robin Weigert’s shocking physical transformation for the role, making people squirm, and more.

Read our interview with stars Robin Weigert and Jonathan Tchaikovsky

Where did you get the idea for the story? Did your son actually hit you in the head with a baseball?
Yeah. My son has a really good arm and he wanted to practice. (laughs) My daughter was diverting my attention, he threw and the poor kid didn’t know I wasn’t looking. My behavior was awful! I had gotten to this point where I had a 9-year-old and a 6-year-old at the time, and I felt like it was my “fuck this” moment. Like, “What am I doing? What am I doing?” I started writing in short order and it was a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” moment.

Did you really call him a little shit?
No comment. Maybe you should ask him that. (laughs)

How do you like living in the suburbs?
It’s interesting. Since I’ve made the film, I’ve found a sense of community in the suburbs that I didn’t know existed. I think the lesson is–Wherever you are, be who you are, and then you’re going to meet like-minded people. I moved to the suburbs around four years ago, before production [on the film started]. I sat and painted in my house and I had nothing to do, really. This was during the financial crisis, too. I was doing a lot of commercial work, but that had kind of dried up and I became a full-time mom for a while. I was like, “Oh my god…this sucks!” It just does. You lose all sense of yourself and you feel that everything you’re doing is sacrificing for your kids. I lost myself for a bit.

Before we get into the film, could you talk a bit about the IFP Lab, the grants you received, and other support you’ve gotten for the film?
The film community is one of my favorite things of which to talk. The independent film community has really come to the table for Concussion. It started with the IFP Narrative Lab, and we halted editing to do a finishing lab with IFP in New York. That lab is led by Amy Dodson, Joana Vicente, who’s head of IFP, and Scott Macaulay, who runs Filmmaker Magazine. It’s a wonderful team that they have. What they do is, they bring in first time filmmakers who’ve made their films for under a million dollars into a finishing lab, and they teach them about what the next phase of finishing editorial–color, sound, composing, score. A lot of us have had that experience of doing all of that, but they gave us a lot of resources, etc.

The next part of it was independent distribution. They want to find a home for these films. John Reiss comes in and does the indie distribution part of it. He wrote a book called Selling Your Film Without Selling Your Soul with Sheri Chandler. They’re very interested in making sure all their films find either homes at distribution or have the tools for self distribution, which I thought was so awesome. It was actually the best week of my life. Through IFP many grants came as well.

Best week of your life?
IFP was one of the best professional weeks of my life because I love sitting and learning from people. It’s my favorite thing to do. It was an amazing experience. The best week of my life was Sundance.

You got a ton of support there.
I owe a lot to the programmers at Sundance, and I think John Cooper really got behind Concussion along with Trevor Groth, John Nein, Shari Frilot, Kim Yutani, Caroline Libresco…all of them. I was fortunate because at the beginning I thought, well, there are eight women directors in competition and I’m just one of them. The token gay girl or whatever. Throughout that week what I learned was that I wasn’t the token anything. I was pushed to be my own thing in many ways. They were so incredibly generous about talking about the film. They pushed me to USA Today…it was insane! We got a lot of great publicity. When Radius came and wanted to distribute the film we thought, “This is a miracle!” This just doesn’t happen. That was the best week ever. (laughs)

The film is about suburbia and feminism, but it’s about more than that. What’s at the core of the film?
I believe that finding one’s self is the subject of one’s life. Clarity. I think that’s at the core of the film for me. Many will find a take on marriage. I think we have to look at ourselves and our partners from time to time and assess what we want to do with the rest of our lives. I think the aspirations of somebody who’s 46 or 43 are very different from somebody who’s in their mid 20’s. I think that when I say that, people in my state of advanced age sort of start nodding their heads. We’ve gone through a lot of the milestones already. We’ve seen our children born, we’ve made some money. But still, there’s an emptiness. If you’re sacrificing yourself to find legitimacy, sometimes that can take its toll. I think those are some of the themes in the film. I think it’s something people like to talk about. It feeds the soul a little bit.

It’s a personal, intimate film, but I think everybody can relate to something in there.
Well, that’s the bet. I think the absence of the male figure in the film makes it sort of relatable for men. I think they feel very vindicated when they watch the film. They might feel titillated, which I love. It’s great, because the film is about sexuality and finding what makes you tick, sexually. Also, it’s a good film for people to look at two people together and find that it’s not always about gender dynamics. It’s about when two people stop having sex and what that looks like in a marriage.

There’s this thing called the Bechdel Test. If two women characters in a work of fiction talk to each other about something other than a man, it passes. Concussion passes!
I’ve never heard about that!

I think films like this are really valuable by this measure.
Thank you. My approach to subject matter is that it has to speak to me. I’m thinking about all the films I want to do, and I don’t think that issue would’ve even come up. All of the things that turn me on aren’t those old kind of ideas. It’s very interesting. There are two things that can be done. One, we can have more women talking to men about their issues, and two, we can have women talk to each other about things that aren’t about men. I don’t know…I just feel like people should do their work. I love men and I love talking about them. I think they’re wonderfully interesting creatures, just like women. In this case, it’s a personal film. Some of the themes are very much about empowerment, and her sexual goals did not involve men, so it was just a matter of what turned her on. It has a lot to do with being gay, certainly. There are absolutely tons of layers, like the fight for legitimacy and the toll that it can take when it’s really all about money and a house in the suburbs. Those are the gay issues in the film. When people say it’s not a gay film, I want to be like, “Well, maybe you’re not that straight of an audience.” You know what I mean? It has a lot of gay themes, and it has a universality about it that a lot of people seem to find.

I want to get into how you shoot intimacy. At my screening, there were some gasps, some…
Squirming?

Yes, some squirming.
I can see that you’re seeing something in your mind right now. What is it exactly? I’m interested. What was the squirmy part?

I’m picturing the scene with the young student sitting in a chair and Robin kneels down in front of her. A lot of people in the theater looked very, very nervous.
Do you remember your first kiss?

Yes.
That’s what it was. Robin and I both knew that that scene was about her first kiss. This is a woman who’s so shut down that she starts over again in many ways. I approached the whole thing as a big orgasm. There’s a build to it. It goes back to the very beautiful woman in the film who seduces Robin. That moment where she pulls Robin to her and it’s almost like Robin is a walker. She’s like stone. I was like, “You’re a column. You’re stone. You don’t know what you’re doing or how this all works anymore.” By the time Robin gets to the [student], it really is her first kiss. She learns a little more until she finds her “animal” self.

Talk a bit about Robin and her performance.
Early on, we thought about the arc of the character. I told her that the character punishes herself with exercise, and Robin came back three months later and she had all these muscles on her and lost all this weight. I was scared when I saw her. She’s a very tall woman, and she was a size zero. At one point, I could see the sinew in her back during the shower scene, and it was kind of sad. Sometimes, that sexiness almost became a look of hunger and desperation. As the film goes on, she finds a way to satiate her hunger. She knew that going in, and she created that arc beautifully. She’s a brilliant person and a wonderful collaborative partner. I don’t know that the film would be anything without her.

What were you looking for when you were casting that role?
I wanted to create an immersive experience. I feel like our culture has gotten so conservative that we’re afraid to go there, and I wanted someone to be able to go there with me. I said, “This isn’t going to be an expensive project, but it’s going to be expensive to your soul.” The way I wanted to do this was the way directors of the golden age of film did it–with their whole heart. I wasn’t afraid, but Robin was afraid. As we talked, she became less afraid. She can go there. That’s the beautiful thing about her. She’s just a well–there are no limits to what she can do. When I realized that, I knew we had something special because that satisfied my urge and hunger to go there creatively, and I think hers as well.

Will you talk a bit about David Kruta, your DP, and the look of the film? The colors are great.
I love to talk about David. He was a camera operator, a DIT by trade, and he shot some shorts. I loved his reel, and the thing I loved about him most was that he knew, technically, how to achieve the looks that we both wanted. The type of framing we wanted. The thing I love about him was that sometimes he saved me from myself. I’m a big fan of alternative framing and kind of “going there”. I think David really knew what this piece was, and he shot what the piece needed to be rather than some of the kooky ideas that I had. I really appreciated his steadiness throughout the process. In the chaos, when you’re doing that amount of acting, you’re doing that amount of directing and you’re really getting into these characters, you need somebody steady and somebody who can help in that way. David was always ready. We dared a little bit with the color. We took some chances. I find that a lot of digital is looking a little too creamy. We were encouraged by our producer to find the look that we wanted, so we really heightened blacks and played with that quite a bit. I think we came to a look that we felt was important for the character and the tone of the piece. I don’t know that I would make another film that looks exactly like that–it’s not necessarily going to be my way–but I felt that this piece deserved that look because of who she was.

After writing and directing your debut film, are you still open to doing films that you don’t both write and direct?
Sure. I’m a collaborator. I didn’t grow up in a world where I could call the shots. I grew up in a world where I was serving clients. That really helped make this film better. I was able to listen to my producer Rose and my editor, executive producer, and collaborator Anthony Cupo. I was very, very involved in collaboration. Rose and I would rewrite scenes, Robin would help rewrite scenes. We really played with it, and that’s something that you have to do in commercial work. You have to serve many masters. I believe in listening to people and making decisions on how to put the puzzle pieces together. I think I’d be really good at helping guide the voice of another writer. It’s something I’m definitely interested in doing.

How does it feel to have the film screening in San Francisco at Frameline?
I always get choked up when anything involves community of any kind. I’m a part of many communities–I’m a part of a suburban community with my friends and I’m part of a Jewish community–but the one that’s the most important for my soul is the gay community. It’s an incredibly important moment for the film and for us as a team. We’re absolutely thrilled to be here.

I returned to the Castro Theater last night for the fourth time in a week (last weekend was The Hitchcock 9), though theater fatigue wasn’t an issue. The Castro Theatre was absolutely bananas for the opening night of the largest and most established LGBT film festival in existence, the Frameline Film Festival (Frameline37). San Francisco’s Castro district is the country’s epicenter for LGBT culture, and the Castro Theatre was bursting with pride, specifically pride for queer cinema.

After the theater’s resident organ player finished his pre-flick set (old-timey stuff never gets old), the lights dimmed and we were treated to a wonderful presentation of every Frameline promo video since the 15th festival in 1991. I was trippin’ watching the neon colors and slap bass tunes of the early promos evolve into the slicker, more artsy promos of the last decade. The promos were funny, bad-ass, sexy nostalgia nuggets that were a hell of a lot of fun to scarf down. After the marathon, the audience was beaming.

Next, festival Executive Director KC Price and other members of the organization detailed the history of the fest and why it’s been the most respected queer film festival for decades. San Francisco is one of the tightest, most supportive communities in the country, and you could feel it in the air as the listed off the countless festival supporters and donors.

Director Stacie Passon and producer Rose Troche took the stage next to introduce the opening night film, the much buzzed about Concussion. The film has gotten a lot of praise and support since it played at Sundance. It’s since been picked up by the Weinstein Company and will be opening in theaters this fall. Troche, a previous participant in the festival, gushed about the love and all-around good vibes she felt from the San Francisco community. Passon’s speech was more brief, ending her maybe two minutes of thank-you’s by throwing her arms up and yelling out to the packed house, “Let’s watch a movie!”

Concussion

Concussion tells a familiar tale of a sexually frustrated suburban housewife, eyes wandering, who takes on a double life after discovering a lustful outlet in the big city. Stacie Passon’s debut feature, however, doesn’t feel trite in the slightest. The dynamic is shaken up a bit here, as Passon’s heroine is a lesbian—the film deals with various feminist issues and has only one male character (refreshing). The film is, though, much more about universal issues like loneliness, the depression of advanced age, marriage, self-discovery, and honesty.

After Abby—a suburban, lesbian, stay-at-home mom with two kids—sustains a concussion after getting clocked in the head with a baseball thrown by her son, something is shaken loose inside her. She’s suddenly aware of how empty her life feels—she stays home, vacuums, exercises, cooks, picks up the kids. She’s hit a dead end. “I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this”, she whimpers. She’s so sexually deprived (her wife’s been neglecting her in bed) that she resorts to phoning a call girl in the city. Then she thinks, “Why pay for sex when I could get paid for sex?”

Visually, Concussion is stunning, with Passon and David Kruta’s (DP) evocative and moody use of color and shadow doing a wonderful job of mirroring Abby’s mood. Robin Weigert gets A LOT to do here as Abby, appearing in nearly every frame. She shows discipline—the tiniest, most subtle twitches and squints on her face speak volumes. Concussion, though perhaps an atypical film in several ways, is a film anybody can relate to. In her debut feature, Passon shows as much promise as I’ve seen in any new director this year.

Look for our full review of the film in a few months when it releases this October.

I was finally able to attend the lecture on short films presented through the Berlinale Talent Campus. The forum was moderated by the curator of the Berlinale Shorts Program, with the panel consisting of shorts programmers from festivals throughout Europe. The discussion was very interesting, and really told a lot about not only the process, but also just how diverse the selection process can be from festival to festival. One in Sarajevo only has one person on the selection committee, where others functioned as teams in completely different ways. Certain festivals have restrictions on premiere status, or the time frame when the film was produced–like Berlinale–where the festival in Finland welcomes everything and anyone.

What was most enlightening, and something that all of the programmers agreed upon, was that they did not necessarily select what they felt to be the best films; rather, they try and build a program that shows new directions in film, diverse ways of telling stories, as well as just plain good shorts. They build a diverse program that offers a collective pool of the type of talent that is out there, and then allow the juries of the festivals to decide which ones are the best. This does a lot to explain why, at times, a shorts program might not meet the standards of most viewers as far as representing what they might consider to be “good cinema.”

I was able to make it to another program of shorts before the attending the panel. What was apparent at this screening, and further emphasized by the programmers, is that typically the programs are made of groups of film that seem to draw on a similar theme–be it alternative storytelling, stories based in reality, or young and upcoming film makers. I will say I enjoyed the second program of shorts better than the first one I attended. The first program fell along the lines of alternative methods to bring a true tale to life. The second program was more along the lines of traditional short film. If you attend a festival where the shorts are divided into separate programs, try and attend a number of them to get a feel of the overall diversity.

The Broken Circle Breakdown

As Americans, we sometimes tend to believe that Europeans can have a fairly negative view of us. The fact is, for the most part they only take issue with our politics, but absolutely love our culture. This idea is clear in Felix van Groeningen’s The Broken Circle Breakdown. The Broken Circle Breakdown tells the story of Didier, a Dutch bluegrass playing atheist who loves America; and Elise, a tattoo artist and catholic. The two fall in love and have a child. At the age of six, the daughter of Didier and Elise begins a battle with cancer. Didier ends up taking strong convictions that religion is to blame for the fact that better medicine is not available for his daughter, which causes friction between him and Elise. To avoid spoiling the film, I will leave out the details of this friction, but the struggle pushes both characters to the very edge of their relationship.

The story is not told in chronological order, with regular jumps back and forth over the span of seven years. The story has a strong presence of American cinema, even though it takes place in Holland. Didier lives in a very “country” setting, with horses and a pick-up, and the soundtrack is made up of lively bluegrass. Even the love between Didier and Elise has a very American feel to it, which ends up taking the focus of the film over the initial story of battling cancer. This is the idea that our convictions are often all we have in a crisis, but that–in the end–we really have no control, regardless of what we believe.

The Broken Circle Breakdown is a beautiful picture in both appearance and story. Van Groeningen uses the presence of harsh light to present a strong and telling image throughout the film, both in the fields around Didier’s house as well as on the stage when he and Elise are performing bluegrass, and it works to draw comparison to the two facets of their lives together. The film received tremendous audience approval during the Panorama screening, and–while the story deals with some very serious issues and moments–there are comical elements that often help to relieve some of the tension.

RATING: 8.7

Concussion

Concussion is a love story, beautifully told by director Stacie Passon. The film opened big at Sundance, and was snapped up very quickly for future distribution by the Weinstein Company. Concussion plays on a lot of themes: self-discovery, love, age, and forgiveness–not just forgiveness of others, but of ourselves as well. While it is considered Queer Cinema, it is universal to anyone who has ever known love, which I believe to be the overall point of Queer Film.

After suffering a concussion, caused by getting hit with a softball accidentally by her son, Abby is left feeling as though she is missing something in her life. First she decides to go back to work flipping apartments. Next she visits a prostitute. Then she decides to become one herself, using the newly renovated apartment she has been working on as her place of business. She decides to service only young women who are looking to better understand themselves and their lives, and later she works with women her own age who are also at a point of confusion in their lives. Through helping these women, Abby is able to get perspective on her own life and what might be missing. In the end, she gives up the practice and returns to her life as a wife and mother with a new sense of drive and determination.

It is no mystery that the concussion in the beginning is a metaphor for a midlife crisis, and Abby’s actions that follow are those that could accompany such a turning point in one’s life. Abby’s prostitution is never seen as a bid for independence or money, as she already has both. In a Q and A following the screening, the director made the statement that–though they decided to leave the notion somewhat ambiguous–each of the women Abby helps is really an extension of herself, and by showing these women the way to understanding, she is showing herself the way. The overall idea that the film wishes to show is that it is possible to have these crisis’ in the midst of our lives, and they can serve to change us, but they do not have to destroy us–as is so often seen in films that tackle this subject matter.

Concussion is a wonderful and engaging story that anyone can learn from as well as enjoy. It is a genuine slice of life that feels true and whole, and was brilliantly executed. I felt engaged throughout the entirety of the film, and have a feeling this is just the beginning for Stacie Passon. I would not be surprised if she becomes a mainstream filmmaker within the next couple of years, and I cannot wait to see what else she has to offer.

RATING: 9.2

From Left to Right. The Curator of the Panorama Program, Producer Rose Troche, Writer/Director Staci Passon, and Actress Robin Weigert, who portrayed Abby in the film.

COMING UP: Tomorrow we will get a look at the serious side of Paul Rudd in Price Avalanche, the latest film from David Gordon Green. I have not seen much billing around town for this film, but the press screening is occurring in the Berlinale Palast with the presence of the Grand Jury, so I think we can expect something great from this film.