I Believe in Mumblecore: Part 1

The incestuous circle of mumblecore personnel recently achieved their highest honor yet as basic as it may seem: Baghead, the latest improv-ed talkie landed a distribution deal with Sony Pictures Classics. If the Duplass brothers felt any pressure, it isn't evident: the film is as confusing, jumbled, low budget and intoxicating as any other mumblecore picture, except it disguises itself as a horror movie. The last film by the Duplass brothers, LOL, suffered from poor critical response (typical of the mumblecore movies) but was ushered through most media outlets due to the hype of the burgeoning scene, which was still shiny and new in 2006. Most reviews of the mumblecore films seem to bemoan them, writing the characters off as self-absorbed and whiny. To that, I respond, perhaps you are too old, complacent in the recent dumbing down of independent cinema or a mixture of both.

Watching films such as Quiet City, Funny Ha Ha, Mutual Appreciation and Hannah Takes the Stairs, enhances me with the same quenching energy that I imagine most American cinephiles felt when watching Breathless, 400 Blows or Shadows in the 60's. Growing up in the 90's, where the Kevin Smith/Quentin Tarantino love of vulgarity and violence dominated the independent movie scene, I can't begin to express how enthusiastic I get watching young men and women making simple movies that convey the confusion of modern interpersonal dynamics. Which is why I tend to be more forgiving about things like plot, pacing and lighting. The Duplass brothers, along with Joe Swanberg, Aaron Katz and Andrew Bujalski, are currently laying the groundwork for a direction more independent films should be headed: back towards sincerity and reality, while moving away from irony with idealized/stylized situations and dialogue. The characters in these movies can be self involved, indecisive, unclear, frustrating and at times, meandering. But doesn't that sound like almost everyone from the age 35 on down?

These films to some extent, are representative of the generation of filmmakers raised by baby boomers and the idealized version of 70's cinema. The blueprint for how the great independent minded directors of the 70's took over Hollywood and achieved acclaim is no longer a viable option. That option has long been rendered obsolete due to the vicious vertical and horizontal integration that makes taking over a major movie studio impossible. Furthermore, the 90's model of Weinstein-Blair Witch-buy-us-an-indie-hit has resulted in the current heap of aim-to-please-distribution-companies quirkcore pseudo-indies. With art-house movie theaters stuffed with documentaries and films with famous actors that lack any real chance for commercial viability such as My Blueberry Nights and Married Life, I see mumblecore as the reboot of independent cinema that it so desperately needs.

A surface level criticism of most mumblecore films, particularly Hannah Takes the Stairs, is that it falls into that other new genre of modern independent film, quirkcore (yes, that's mine). Sure, Hannah climaxes with two twentysomethings playing horns (literally) in the bathtub. But how those people got to the tub is just as confusing, confounded, sloppy and unclear as any relationship I've witnessed in my lifetime. More importantly, the bond between those two people seems just as fleeting as most relationships are. Not every relationship is going to be capital "I" Important and if that isn't represented in independent cinema, it won't be anywhere else. The characters in the mumblecore films distinguish themselves from Miranda July and Diablo Cody's characters in that they live more organically. In quirkcore films such as Juno, Me, You and Everyone We Know and Little Miss Sunshine the characters may have weird habits, act in bizarre ways and rage against a ludicrously black and white version of mainstream corporate America but ultimately, the characters seem to always end up with moralistic Hollywood endings.

Consider the trite, dangerously cute ending to Juno in which everything is just fine for little Juno. She may have a had a kid in high school, but hey, she snagged a boy in track shorts (krazy!) and the traditional mom who worked so hard at being a cookie cutter version of a mom gets her baby. But Jason Bateman's character, whose actions are less than commendable, has to get the hell out of dodge. In Me, You and Everyone We Know, everyone is paired off in the end, right down to the creepy business lady and the creepy cute kid who is obsessed with poo passing. Oh and art wins over commerce. And there were no repercussions for a woman who was having cyber sex with a minor. We all learned a lesson and are happily paired off in the traditional roles being hocked off by every mainstream Hollywood movie. You'd think this was the Brady Bunch! Which is exactly what Little Miss Sunshine is: they might be dysfunctional but they are one big happy family! Which is makes makes the fleeting uncertainty and greyness of the mumblecore films, including Baghead feel so invigorating.

Monday: Baghead reviewed!