Maggie’s Plan (2015)

Yet another film — I feel like I see one every few months, but maybe I just like to seek them out — that fits neatly into the burgeoning romcom subgenre of New York-set films about middle-class intellectuals trying to find love. Many of them star Greta Gerwig; Maggie’s Plan is no different. That said, and I suppose a range of opinions may be available, but I think Gerwig is great, an intensely likeable screen presence whose delivery energises even the most familiar material. Here, the film follows the usual roundelay of attachments — Maggie is a teacher who falls for social anthropologist John (Ethan Hawke), who’s having trouble in his marriage to the frosty Georgette (Julianne Moore) — but it doesn’t insist on marriage or even romance as the way forward. That in itself makes it worthwhile, quite aside from all its excellent comic performances (Julianne Moore remains a force of nature).

Maggie's Plan film posterNEW RELEASE FILM REVIEW
Director/Writer Rebecca Miller; Cinematographer Sam Levy; Starring Greta Gerwig, Ethan Hawke, Julianne Moore, Maya Rudolph, Bill Hader; Length 98 minutes.
Seen at Curzon Bloomsbury, London, Tuesday 12 July 2016.


Mistress America (2015)

Screwball comedy seems to be back in with US cinema at the moment, perhaps an expression of yearning for a long-gone era when filmmakers got to just indulge their borderline-sociopathic characters with witty wordplay, showing little regard for the naturalism that seemed so important to the New American Cinema of the 60s onwards. It allows for a rush of pure cinephilia, but unlike Peter Bogdanovich’s recent She’s Funny That Way, Noah Baumbach’s film, co-written by his star Greta Gerwig, has a more contemporary feel. It’s still based around suffocating WASPy upper-middles making their idle way through life, a milieu familiar from Frances Ha (or the sitcom Girls, featuring co-star Lola Kirke’s sister), but it mines that for some excellent laughs. Much of this is at the expense of Kirke’s first-year college student Tracy and her pretentious literary fellows (she’s a budding writer), but the source is Gerwig’s irrepressible Brooke, just turned 30 and still living precariously in New York City. Brooke has big plans but a history of others taking them on to achieve the success she can only fantasise about, and Tracy steps into this role as a potential sister-in-law (thanks to their parents’ impending marriage). One imagines the film could collapse at any moment — plenty of the relationships within it do — but it all manages to nimbly keep afloat and keep the laughs coming, even when some of the emotional terrain becomes more fraught. Gerwig’s Brooke is a complex character, at once warm and good to be around but also with a streak of mean self-absorption, nothing near as excoriating as the literary poseurs of Listen Up Philip (another film sharing some of the same terrain), but certainly challenging to those around her. Baumbach’s style though seems to be lightening up a little, making for more enjoyable films, and this one is equally driven by its musical soundtrack, heavy on the 80s synth sounds of such bands as Orchestral Maneouvres in the Dark — and that at least is enough to keep me happy.

Mistress America film poster CREDITS
Director Noah Baumbach; Writers Baumbach and Greta Gerwig; Cinematographer Sam Levy; Starring Lola Kirke, Greta Gerwig; Length 84 minutes.
Seen at Picturehouse Central, London, Monday 17 August 2015.

Hannah Takes the Stairs (2007)

Every generation, I guess, has its cinema of self-involved navel-gazing, and for whatever it’s worth (not always very much to some critics it appears), this must be mine. I grew up in New Zealand which in the 2000s had its own micro-budget lo-fi independent digitally-shot relationship dramas, and New York it turns out has its (more widely-known) analogue with the so-called “mumblecore” scene (based largely around the creative personnel involved with this film), and presumably taking its name from the improvisational style of the dialogue. And yet, for me, it sometimes feels like there are completely different types of emotions unearthed within this idiom than in your more polished festival (and multiplex) fare, and for that I like it.

Andrew Bujalski (probably the pre-eminent director in the scene) plays Paul, the senior partner in a creative writing duo with Kent Osborne’s Matt. They work in a fairly bland little office for what appears to be a TV show. However, it’s their intern Hannah (Greta Gerwig) who is the film’s focus, as you might have guessed from the title, and her character is the one most nakedly exposed (quite literally in the first and last shots of the film). Over the course of the film, she gets into relationships with three of the men in the film, as she deals with a certain kind of early-20s ennui.

Having gone on to further successes, most prominently in Frances Ha earlier this year, it’s unsurprisingly Greta Gerwig who dominates the film, and your enjoyment of it is likely to be predicated on how charming and identifiable you find her. As it happens, I do. She has a deft and likeable comedic presence, while not sacrificing a kind of unfocused sadness at her character’s core, which she is only slowly (and with great difficulty) able to open up about in a conversation late in the film with Matt. She can be contrary and contradictory, but there’s an openness to the way she delivers it that I find likeable.

It’s the dialogue scenes, which I understand were largely improvised (hence the writing credits for most of the cast), that give the movie its momentum and with which some reviewers have taken issue. Yet I like the halting silences and lacunae that realistically inflect the conversations. For example, there’s a beautifully-judged scene in which Hannah invites Paul up to her flat and they meet her flatmate, who swiftly exits, whereupon the scene sort of judders to a fantastically awkward halt. Most of the time the cast banters affectionately, which provides the ebb and flow of the narrative, as unfocused as its characters.

It may not be a grand statement or a glamorous one, but in its way it says a lot about people in their early-20s learning to find their feet. At least as long as such films continue to star actors as watchable as Greta Gerwig, I’ll continue to be happy to watch them fumble through life on shaky digital video.

Director/Cinematographer Joe Swanberg; Writers Swanberg, Greta Gerwig, Kent Osbourne and Andrew Bujalski; Starring Greta Gerwig, Kent Osborne, Andrew Bujalski; Length 83 minutes.
Seen at ICA, London, Sunday 25 August 2013.

Frances Ha (2012)

I started keeping a spreadsheet (well, a notebook originally) of films I’d been to see around the time I started going to university. My best friend of the time would take me along to interesting-sounding movies, and among the films of that first year was Noah Baumbach’s debut Kicking and Screaming (1995), about which I don’t remember much except that it dealt with aimless university graduates and had a tricksy narrative structure. I imagine if I’d been a few years older I’d have identified with the characters more, after a few years studying film and reading the classics, and certainly I had some aimless years in my 20s (I’m not convinced I’ve really progressed far from there, actually, save perhaps for a more stable living situation). It’s the same middle-class world of New York-based artists and intellectuals that Baumbach has mined in those of his films I’ve seen since then, and if it’s the kind of milieu that I chiefly associate with movies (whether his or Whit Stillman’s, Wes Anderson’s, Woody Allen’s or the recent ‘mumblecore’ movement), then it’s certainly a comfortable milieu. Yet it can sometimes feel suffocatingly airless, preying on generational narcissism; I saw characteristics in this past year’s Stuck in Love and it’s evident here too. And yet, I am sucker for this kind of thing and Frances Ha does it with exceptional charm.

Part of this charm is the way it shamelessly draws on its influences, while being sure to carefully credit them. It very clearly wants to be a Nouvelle Vague film — François Truffaut’s iconic actor Jean-Pierre Léaud is namechecked and Georges Delerue music from his films is used, while the protagonist even visits Paris at one point — and at its best it could stand alongside those early-60s films of Truffaut, Godard and Rohmer with its watchful camera and short spontaneous scenes. The black-and-white photography recalls Raoul Coutard in those years, or perhaps more apropos, the Gordon Willis who shot Woody Allen’s high period films, particularly the monochrome Manhattan (1979). It just imparts to everything a kind of timelessness: Frances Ha is set in the present, but in its music and visual cues it constantly harks to the past.

The resulting tension is reflective of the stasis in which its eponymous central character — well, almost eponymous, as her surname is longer than “Ha” — finds herself. I’ve seen it described as a ‘coming of age story’ and perhaps that’s right, or at least suggests something of the heroine’s struggle, and yet she’s 27 years old: she’s out of university, unsuccessfully pursuing a career as a dancer, unable (or unwilling) to sustain a relationship and unsure what to do. There’s a heartbreaking stretch of the film where everything just seems to go wrong for her, not in a melodramatic way, but just that way that things go sometimes (missed connections, misunderstandings, social embarrassments). But the film isn’t thankfully out to be misanthropic or to wallow in misery: Frances may have difficulty achieving her vaunted ambitions, but she is a stubborn character.

I’ve talked already about some of the ways the film is charming, but chief among them is its star (and co-writer) Greta Gerwig, an heir to Allen’s neurotic heroines of the 1970s without the WASPy excesses. She manages to pull off the kind of ‘free-spirited’ role that’s too often a lazy (male) screenwriter’s idea of femininity (Manic Pixie Dream Girls, anyone?), without sacrificing her right to be taken seriously as a character. There’s plenty of resulting comedy too, such as a wonderful scene where she is breaking up with her boyfriend but is able to animatedly take a phone call from her best friend Sophie (Mickey Sumner). Frances frequently, in fact, punctures a sombre gathering with her cheerful (and at times tactless) humour.

What it all adds up to is unclear: it’s mostly a persuasive portrait of one type of late-20s ennui, loosely organised by the different addresses in which Frances lives, thereby charting her move towards increasing security. Part of what I like about it is identifying with what I want to imagine my own 20s were like, but there’s also plenty that I think is valuable and wonderful and even heartwarming.

© Metrodome

Director Noah Baumbach | Writers Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig | Cinematographer Sam Levy | Starring Greta Gerwig, Mickey Sumner | Length 86 minutes || Seen at Cineworld Fulham Road, London, Saturday 10 August 2013

My Rating 4 stars excellent