list http://www.spout.com/ Recent community activity around Numb on Spout Copyright 2005-9 Spout, LLC Spout RSS http://www.spout.com/images/SpoutLogoRSS.jpg http://www.spout.com/ 136 30 http://www.spout.com/films/Numb/285383/default.aspx Title: Numb
Year: 2008
Director: Harris Goldberg
Plot: In this dark indie comedy, Matthew Perry stars as Hudson, a love-struck screenwriter suffering from acute depersonalization disorder-which makes chronic depression seem like a walk in the park by comparison. When Hudson falls for the girl of his dreams, he must put himself through every therapy imaginable to win her love. ~www.tribecafimfestival.org
Times Tagged: 4
Number of Lists: 3
Number of blog posts: 5
SpoutRating: 3
]]>Fri, 06 Jun 2008 16:46:15 GMTNumb2008Harris GoldbergIn this dark indie comedy, Matthew Perry stars as Hudson, a love-struck screenwriter suffering from acute depersonalization disorder-which makes chronic depression seem like a walk in the park by comparison. When Hudson falls for the girl of his dreams, he must put himself through every therapy imaginable to win her love. ~www.tribecafimfestival.org4Slightly Tagged (1-5)353http://www.spout.com/ProductImages/s285383.jpghttp://www.spout.com/films/Numb/285383/default.aspxFilm http://www.spout.com/blogs/jj79/archive/2008/6/6/30606.aspx Post By: JJ79
Post To: JJ79 Blog
Post Date: 6/6/2008 12:46:15 PM
Body: Matthew Perry, best known as Chandler from "Friends," proves himself to be more than a broad comedic actor in "Numb," essentially an autobiography of writer/director Harris Goldberg´s fight against depersonalization. Basically, this is the feeling of not belonging in your own body, looking at the things you do and not having any emotion about them. This disorder affects not only Hudson Milbank´s (Perry) writing career-and writing partner Tom (Kevin Pollack)-but also his quest to find the one woman who will love him. Casting Perry in the lead role of a dark romance was precipitated, according to Goldberg´s commentary, by watching the actor´s guest star stints on "The West Wing." I´d argue, though, Milbank has more in common with Matt Albie from "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip." For starters, there are superficial similarities between the two. Both are writers and are in recovery from one thing or another. Albie and Milbank also need to work…at least, Tom does, leading to the supposition Hudson does as well. Then there´s the personality. Chandler found himself to equally be the butt of the joke or the comedian, with bigger than life emotions and not much use for subtlety. Yet when the camera is pushed up close to Perry, allowing him to work in a comedy sub-genre, he is able to display a depth of emotion we´re not used to seeing with him. Here is a man desperate to find out what is wrong, to make his life complete and, ostensibly, grow up. Though Goldberg never comes out and says it, the majority of Hudson´s issue comes in the form of his parents. Specifically, his father ("The X Files" Cigarette Smoking Man William B. Davis). We only meet the elder Milbank once or twice in the production; those few scenes tell us everything we need to know about their relationship. Dad Peter coddles Hudson even when he is a fully formed adult capable of taking care of himself. The writer begins to hyperventilate during a trip home; Mom says to let him take care of it. Peter rushes his son to the emergency room. Hudson is a needy, near man-child of a person, incapable of taking himself or others seriously. Is the reason he has a drawer full of stolen pens because he gets a thrill out of it? Possibly (and Goldberg says he did the same thing as a youngster), though it´s equally possible the adult Hudson hopes to get caught, leading to attention he doesn´t get in his own life. Which seems a bit backward, honestly, when other aspects of his life are taken into account. It is made clear several times Tom needs Hudson to sell the scripts he writes: Tom is the writer, Hudson is the salesman. So, at least in that respect, Hudson has an enormous weight on his shoulders. The person who truly understands him-the love interest, if you will-is Sarah (Lynn Collins). They meet at a pitch meeting and, shortly thereafter, she accepts Hudson´s world without reservation. She turns out to be the first person, including doctors, pharmacists, family and even Tom, to wrap their arms around the depersonalization. There´s even a sweet little scene where they discuss what they want out of a relationship. Sarah´s answer, and the way it plays into the climax of the film, should bring a tear to your eye. Goldberg and the crew try to bring the sensation of being numb in your own body across, yet it is a tall order. Film is a passive medium. The people on screen interact; we watch. The production tries, though, to get us to understand depersonalization through a couple fancy effects shots: Hudson talking to a person in sped up fashion with disco ball-esque flashing. It´s not the best representation of the experience in my estimation. The result is akin to a drug or alcohol bender more than a psychological disorder. That being said, as I alluded to in the beginning, "Numb" rests on the talents of Perry. Without him in the lead, and his ability to play subdued humor, the entire film would have been for naught. Goldberg never had Perry in mind for the role, considering him too broad a comic actor for Hudson. Despite his personae as Chandler, we never see that character in Milbank. Rather, Perry brings an everyman quality to the part, a neurotic and relaxed feeling combined into one single person. Some beard scruff, thrown together clothes and a sometimes-vacant stare in his eyes bring the character together. So far, I´ve neglected the rest of the act. None is more compelling than Mary Steenburgen in a "When Harry Met Sally"-ish restaurant scene near the end of the film. Her therapist-turned-romantic partner for Hudson (Dr. Blaine, for the record) provides some of the best laugh lines-especially considering her signature scene was improvised. Pollack doesn´t do as much acting, bringing his "Kevin Pollack" character to the production. He eats, complains, makes a sardonic comment. Rinse. Repeat. But in a film where the lead isn´t over the top, he works nicely as a compliment to Perry. Then there´s Collins as the love interest Sarah. A relative newcomer, at least compared to the rest of the cast, she successfully imbues the character with equal parts naivety and an off beat attitude, making it easy to see why Hudson falls for her. Even in the production´s most shocking scene (in a strip club), Sarah remains the most innocent person here. With every curse word or expletive which comes out of her mouth, Collins is able to endear Sarah to us even more. I can´t put my finger on exactly why it works that way; it just does. VIDEO: The 1.781:1 anamorphic transfer looks rather good, without a hint of the normal issues associated with lower budget productions. Blacks are deep while every other color is well rendered. Outdoor scenes are never given an ethereal quality, rather they look quite natural. Indoor shots aren´t over lit and appear natural. One minor quibble: late in the film, a thin strip appears at the very top of the screen. It seems to bring the elements underneath it into clearer focus than the rest of the picture. This strip isn´t terribly noticeable and disappears shortly after it comes onto the screen. AUDIO: The 5.1 and 2.0 (English, of course) tracks are interchangeable, to be honest. Both do the best they can in creating a depth in the sound field-despite this being a subdued romance. However, the 2.0 is a bit less dynamic than the 5.1. No discernable problems are present while the soundtrack elements come across clearly. EXTRAS: The jewel in the crown, figuratively speaking, is the commentary with Harris Goldberg. He rarely stops speaking for the entire 93 minute running time, imparting stories from the set (Steenburgen insisted she do her sex scene topless), directing (he continually asked Perry to ratchet down the comedy) and realism (people on set wanted to cover up running mascara when Sarah cries; he fought to keep it). Goldberg is an engaging speaker, though the inclusion of anyone else involved with the production would have been a welcome diversion. A twenty minute featurette comes up next featuring sound bites from the entire cast. Most of the information we learn in the commentary is repeated here. Lastly is a series of trailers (all of which play at the beginning of the disc also). They are: "The Air I Breathe," "The Color of Freedom," "The Strange Case of Dr. Jeyll and Mr. Hyde" and "Che." PARTING THOUGHTS: "Numb" is a fun little movie featuring an excellent performance from Perry and solid supporting turns by everyone around him. Equal parts humorous, romantic and even a bit sad, it proves the leading man is more than the role we all know him for.
]]>Fri, 06 Jun 2008 16:46:15 GMTJJ79JJ79 Blog6/6/2008 12:46:15 PMMatthew Perry, best known as Chandler from "Friends," proves himself to be more than a broad comedic actor in "Numb," essentially an autobiography of writer/director Harris Goldberg´s fight against depersonalization. Basically, this is the feeling of not belonging in your own body, looking at the things you do and not having any emotion about them. This disorder affects not only Hudson Milbank´s (Perry) writing career-and writing partner Tom (Kevin Pollack)-but also his quest to find the one woman who will love him. Casting Perry in the lead role of a dark romance was precipitated, according to Goldberg´s commentary, by watching the actor´s guest star stints on "The West Wing." I´d argue, though, Milbank has more in common with Matt Albie from "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip." For starters, there are superficial similarities between the two. Both are writers and are in recovery from one thing or another. Albie and Milbank also need to work…at least, Tom does, leading to the supposition Hudson does as well. Then there´s the personality. Chandler found himself to equally be the butt of the joke or the comedian, with bigger than life emotions and not much use for subtlety. Yet when the camera is pushed up close to Perry, allowing him to work in a comedy sub-genre, he is able to display a depth of emotion we´re not used to seeing with him. Here is a man desperate to find out what is wrong, to make his life complete and, ostensibly, grow up. Though Goldberg never comes out and says it, the majority of Hudson´s issue comes in the form of his parents. Specifically, his father ("The X Files" Cigarette Smoking Man William B. Davis). We only meet the elder Milbank once or twice in the production; those few scenes tell us everything we need to know about their relationship. Dad Peter coddles Hudson even when he is a fully formed adult capable of taking care of himself. The writer begins to hyperventilate during a trip home; Mom says to let him take care of it. Peter rushes his son to the emergency room. Hudson is a needy, near man-child of a person, incapable of taking himself or others seriously. Is the reason he has a drawer full of stolen pens because he gets a thrill out of it? Possibly (and Goldberg says he did the same thing as a youngster), though it´s equally possible the adult Hudson hopes to get caught, leading to attention he doesn´t get in his own life. Which seems a bit backward, honestly, when other aspects of his life are taken into account. It is made clear several times Tom needs Hudson to sell the scripts he writes: Tom is the writer, Hudson is the salesman. So, at least in that respect, Hudson has an enormous weight on his shoulders. The person who truly understands him-the love interest, if you will-is Sarah (Lynn Collins). They meet at a pitch meeting and, shortly thereafter, she accepts Hudson´s world without reservation. She turns out to be the first person, including doctors, pharmacists, family and even Tom, to wrap their arms around the depersonalization. There´s even a sweet little scene where they discuss what they want out of a relationship. Sarah´s answer, and the way it plays into the climax of the film, should bring a tear to your eye. Goldberg and the crew try to bring the sensation of being numb in your own body across, yet it is a tall order. Film is a passive medium. The people on screen interact; we watch. The production tries, though, to get us to understand depersonalization through a couple fancy effects shots: Hudson talking to a person in sped up fashion with disco ball-esque flashing. It´s not the best representation of the experience in my estimation. The result is akin to a drug or alcohol bender more than a psychological disorder. That being said, as I alluded to in the beginning, "Numb" rests on the talents of Perry. Without him in the lead, and his ability to play subdued humor, the entire film would have been for naught. Goldberg never had Perry in mind for the role, considering him too broad a comic actor for Hudson. Despite his personae as Chandler, we never see that character in Milbank. Rather, Perry brings an everyman quality to the part, a neurotic and relaxed feeling combined into one single person. Some beard scruff, thrown together clothes and a sometimes-vacant stare in his eyes bring the character together. So far, I´ve neglected the rest of the act. None is more compelling than Mary Steenburgen in a "When Harry Met Sally"-ish restaurant scene near the end of the film. Her therapist-turned-romantic partner for Hudson (Dr. Blaine, for the record) provides some of the best laugh lines-especially considering her signature scene was improvised. Pollack doesn´t do as much acting, bringing his "Kevin Pollack" character to the production. He eats, complains, makes a sardonic comment. Rinse. Repeat. But in a film where the lead isn´t over the top, he works nicely as a compliment to Perry. Then there´s Collins as the love interest Sarah. A relative newcomer, at least compared to the rest of the cast, she successfully imbues the character with equal parts naivety and an off beat attitude, making it easy to see why Hudson falls for her. Even in the production´s most shocking scene (in a strip club), Sarah remains the most innocent person here. With every curse word or expletive which comes out of her mouth, Collins is able to endear Sarah to us even more. I can´t put my finger on exactly why it works that way; it just does. VIDEO: The 1.781:1 anamorphic transfer looks rather good, without a hint of the normal issues associated with lower budget productions. Blacks are deep while every other color is well rendered. Outdoor scenes are never given an ethereal quality, rather they look quite natural. Indoor shots aren´t over lit and appear natural. One minor quibble: late in the film, a thin strip appears at the very top of the screen. It seems to bring the elements underneath it into clearer focus than the rest of the picture. This strip isn´t terribly noticeable and disappears shortly after it comes onto the screen. AUDIO: The 5.1 and 2.0 (English, of course) tracks are interchangeable, to be honest. Both do the best they can in creating a depth in the sound field-despite this being a subdued romance. However, the 2.0 is a bit less dynamic than the 5.1. No discernable problems are present while the soundtrack elements come across clearly. EXTRAS: The jewel in the crown, figuratively speaking, is the commentary with Harris Goldberg. He rarely stops speaking for the entire 93 minute running time, imparting stories from the set (Steenburgen insisted she do her sex scene topless), directing (he continually asked Perry to ratchet down the comedy) and realism (people on set wanted to cover up running mascara when Sarah cries; he fought to keep it). Goldberg is an engaging speaker, though the inclusion of anyone else involved with the production would have been a welcome diversion. A twenty minute featurette comes up next featuring sound bites from the entire cast. Most of the information we learn in the commentary is repeated here. Lastly is a series of trailers (all of which play at the beginning of the disc also). They are: "The Air I Breathe," "The Color of Freedom," "The Strange Case of Dr. Jeyll and Mr. Hyde" and "Che." PARTING THOUGHTS: "Numb" is a fun little movie featuring an excellent performance from Perry and solid supporting turns by everyone around him. Equal parts humorous, romantic and even a bit sad, it proves the leading man is more than the role we all know him for. http://www.spout.com/blogs/jeffabu/archive/2007/5/13/8724.aspx Post By: JeffAbu
Post To: JeffAbu Blog
Post Date: 5/13/2007 11:34:37 PM
Body: There are movies that, in time, garner a cult following, for reasons most people can't fathom, or don't care too. This is likely to happen with Harris Goldberg's "Numb."  The scant reviews emerging from the Tribeca Film Festival thus far have pointed out that the script is pretty much autobiographical, based on Harris Goldberg's own experience with something called Depersonalization, triggered by pot.  Sounds like a pretty  extreme and rare reaction to weed, and a pretty weak premise on which to base an entire movie, right?  No.  Just the opposite.  Depersonalization Disorder is something quite real, and a condition that, incredibly, affects more people than either schizophrenia or bi-polar disorders. Yet few people, even relatively few health professionals have ever heard of it.  It can be triggered by various forms of stess or trauma, as well as things like LSD and marijuana. The confusion, frustration and inability to deal with "normal" life that often marks DPD is portrayed beautifully by Matthew Perry, whose eyes, at times reveal the void left behind by a soul that has simply disappeared. Lack of affect, "numbness" is just one of many symptoms of depersonalization, but it is likely the one most movie viewers can relate to, and perhaps, the simplest to portray. In this sense, Harris Goldberg has wisely avoided extensive diving into the fearfully negative and hopeless waters of DPD. Instead, he gives us important glimpses into the overall angst of the condition as well as the sufferer's desperate efforts to resume a "normal" life.  And he manages to do this within a comedic context.  DPD is NOT depression, you see, nor is it humorless.  People with the condition are often highly intelligent, and more often than not, they can exhibit extreme insight and a biting wit, simply because their ego, or lack thereof, never stands in the way.Ultimately, this film marks the very first mention of Depersonalization Disorder on the big screen.  It is the first depiction of someone who has it. On top of it, Goldberg has generously shown Perry reading the only authoritative book on the condition "Feeling Unreal" right in the middle of the film.   Creating this film, which is funny and highly entertaining by any standard, marks a singlar act of courage on the part of the writer/director. According to Hollywood: Everyone knows that pot is always harmless, right?  Wrong.  According to the medical profession: Depersonalization is just a symptom of some other condition, right. Wrong again. Goldberg has, if nothing else, boldly stated these truths by tickling the funnybone rather than the temporal lobe. Literally millions of people already know these truths, and therein lies the film's audience, for a long long time.
]]>Mon, 14 May 2007 03:34:37 GMTJeffAbuJeffAbu Blog5/13/2007 11:34:37 PMThere are movies that, in time, garner a cult following, for reasons most people can't fathom, or don't care too. This is likely to happen with Harris Goldberg's "Numb."  The scant reviews emerging from the Tribeca Film Festival thus far have pointed out that the script is pretty much autobiographical, based on Harris Goldberg's own experience with something called Depersonalization, triggered by pot.  Sounds like a pretty  extreme and rare reaction to weed, and a pretty weak premise on which to base an entire movie, right?  No.  Just the opposite.  Depersonalization Disorder is something quite real, and a condition that, incredibly, affects more people than either schizophrenia or bi-polar disorders. Yet few people, even relatively few health professionals have ever heard of it.  It can be triggered by various forms of stess or trauma, as well as things like LSD and marijuana. The confusion, frustration and inability to deal with "normal" life that often marks DPD is portrayed beautifully by Matthew Perry, whose eyes, at times reveal the void left behind by a soul that has simply disappeared. Lack of affect, "numbness" is just one of many symptoms of depersonalization, but it is likely the one most movie viewers can relate to, and perhaps, the simplest to portray. In this sense, Harris Goldberg has wisely avoided extensive diving into the fearfully negative and hopeless waters of DPD. Instead, he gives us important glimpses into the overall angst of the condition as well as the sufferer's desperate efforts to resume a "normal" life.  And he manages to do this within a comedic context.  DPD is NOT depression, you see, nor is it humorless.  People with the condition are often highly intelligent, and more often than not, they can exhibit extreme insight and a biting wit, simply because their ego, or lack thereof, never stands in the way.Ultimately, this film marks the very first mention of Depersonalization Disorder on the big screen.  It is the first depiction of someone who has it. On top of it, Goldberg has generously shown Perry reading the only authoritative book on the condition "Feeling Unreal" right in the middle of the film.   Creating this film, which is funny and highly entertaining by any standard, marks a singlar act of courage on the part of the writer/director. According to Hollywood: Everyone knows that pot is always harmless, right?  Wrong.  According to the medical profession: Depersonalization is just a symptom of some other condition, right. Wrong again. Goldberg has, if nothing else, boldly stated these truths by tickling the funnybone rather than the temporal lobe. Literally millions of people already know these truths, and therein lies the film's audience, for a long long time. http://www.spout.com/blogs/jeffabu/archive/2007/5/13/8723.aspx Post By: JeffAbu
Post To: JeffAbu Blog
Post Date: 5/13/2007 11:33:57 PM
Body: There are movies that, in time, garner a cult following, for reasons most people can't fathom, or don't care too. This is likely to happen with Harris Goldberg's "Numb."  The scant reviews emerging from the Tribeca Film Festival thus far have pointed out that the script is pretty much autobiographical, based on Harris Goldberg's own experience with something called Depersonalization, triggered by pot.  Sounds like a pretty  extreme and rare reaction to weed, and a pretty weak premise on which to base an entire movie, right?  No.  Just the opposite.  Depersonalization Disorder is something quite real, and a condition that, incredibly, affects more people than either schizophrenia or bi-polar disorders. Yet few people, even relatively few health professionals have ever heard of it.  It can be triggered by various forms of stess or trauma, as well as things like LSD and marijuana. The confusion, frustration and inability to deal with "normal" life that often marks DPD is portrayed beautifully by Matthew Perry, whose eyes, at times reveal the void left behind by a soul that has simply disappeared. Lack of affect, "numbness" is just one of many symptoms of depersonalization, but it is likely the one most movie viewers can relate to, and perhaps, the simplest to portray. In this sense, Harris Goldberg has wisely avoided extensive diving into the fearfully negative and hopeless waters of DPD. Instead, he gives us important glimpses into the overall angst of the condition as well as the sufferer's desperate efforts to resume a "normal" life.  And he manages to do this within a comedic context.  DPD is NOT depression, you see, nor is it humorless.  People with the condition are often highly intelligent, and more often than not, they can exhibit extreme insight and a biting wit, simply because their ego, or lack thereof, never stands in the way.Ultimately, this film marks the very first mention of Depersonalization Disorder on the big screen.  It is the first depiction of someone who has it. On top of it, Goldberg has generously shown Perry reading the only authoritative book on the condition "Feeling Unreal" right in the middle of the film.   Creating this film, which is funny and highly entertaining by any standard, marks a singlar act of courage on the part of the writer/director. According to Hollywood: Everyone knows that pot is always harmless, right?  Wrong.  According to the medical profession: Depersonalization is just a symptom of some other condition, right. Wrong again. Goldberg has, if nothing else, boldly stated these truths by tickling the funnybone rather than the temporal lobe. Literally millions of people already know these truths, and therein lies the film's audience, for a long long time.
]]>Mon, 14 May 2007 03:33:57 GMTJeffAbuJeffAbu Blog5/13/2007 11:33:57 PMThere are movies that, in time, garner a cult following, for reasons most people can't fathom, or don't care too. This is likely to happen with Harris Goldberg's "Numb."  The scant reviews emerging from the Tribeca Film Festival thus far have pointed out that the script is pretty much autobiographical, based on Harris Goldberg's own experience with something called Depersonalization, triggered by pot.  Sounds like a pretty  extreme and rare reaction to weed, and a pretty weak premise on which to base an entire movie, right?  No.  Just the opposite.  Depersonalization Disorder is something quite real, and a condition that, incredibly, affects more people than either schizophrenia or bi-polar disorders. Yet few people, even relatively few health professionals have ever heard of it.  It can be triggered by various forms of stess or trauma, as well as things like LSD and marijuana. The confusion, frustration and inability to deal with "normal" life that often marks DPD is portrayed beautifully by Matthew Perry, whose eyes, at times reveal the void left behind by a soul that has simply disappeared. Lack of affect, "numbness" is just one of many symptoms of depersonalization, but it is likely the one most movie viewers can relate to, and perhaps, the simplest to portray. In this sense, Harris Goldberg has wisely avoided extensive diving into the fearfully negative and hopeless waters of DPD. Instead, he gives us important glimpses into the overall angst of the condition as well as the sufferer's desperate efforts to resume a "normal" life.  And he manages to do this within a comedic context.  DPD is NOT depression, you see, nor is it humorless.  People with the condition are often highly intelligent, and more often than not, they can exhibit extreme insight and a biting wit, simply because their ego, or lack thereof, never stands in the way.Ultimately, this film marks the very first mention of Depersonalization Disorder on the big screen.  It is the first depiction of someone who has it. On top of it, Goldberg has generously shown Perry reading the only authoritative book on the condition "Feeling Unreal" right in the middle of the film.   Creating this film, which is funny and highly entertaining by any standard, marks a singlar act of courage on the part of the writer/director. According to Hollywood: Everyone knows that pot is always harmless, right?  Wrong.  According to the medical profession: Depersonalization is just a symptom of some other condition, right. Wrong again. Goldberg has, if nothing else, boldly stated these truths by tickling the funnybone rather than the temporal lobe. Literally millions of people already know these truths, and therein lies the film's audience, for a long long time. http://www.spout.com/blogs/thereeler/archive/2007/5/8/8414.aspx Post By: TheReeler
Post To: The Reeler on Spout
Post Date: 5/8/2007 12:54:00 PM
Body: Matthew Perry, smoked out in Harris Goldberg's Numb By Michelle Orange From this afternoon’s random sampling one might deduce that, like slime mold, all the sad young men have picked up and headed for the water. California, to be exact. Numb, Good Time Max, and In Search of a Midnight Kiss all seemed to have a bizarre number of things in common: dysfunctional men who move to Los Angeles; mothers who are either cold bitches or fare-thee-well featherweight and fathers who are absent or oblivious; a woman who’s going to fix everything (OK, only two of them have that); and a key character reference made via masturbation (one wants to jerk off on a bunny rabbit, another to his roommate’s girlfriend and the third to a three-second snippet of porn on a loop). I’m not even sure what all of this means, but it was too obvious not to note. Especially that last one. I only know one guy in LA, and I feel like I should give him a call. Maybe I can tell him about slime mold, it’s about the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. I have to admit I have always had a soft spot for Matthew Perry, and though I mourn the loss of his chin, I still find him a very appealing comic presence, one fizzing with the uncomfortable zetz of darker terrain. In Numb, a Canadian film directed and written by Harris Goldberg, Perry jumps at the chance to go deep, though the film keeps some softball humor at the ready. Perry plays Hudson, a moderately depressed screenwriter who (over)smokes a joint and is sent over the edge into what is diagnosed as “depersonalization disorder.” Desperate not just to feel like himself again but to feel anything at all, Hudson seeks out a variety of treatments, and a host of drugs, running the shrink circuit like the unholy gauntlet the filmmaker apparently believes it to be. When Hudson meets Sara (Tori Amos look-alike Lynn Collins), the need to get better becomes imperative; they trade flaws (he compares her to a lion, she insists he looks like an owl), watch the golf channel and tiptoe around what is clearly Hudson’s crippling issue. The problem (other than the fact that if Perry resembles anything it is -– as I have maintained for over a decade –- Beaker from The Muppet Show) is not the warm zip of chemistry between the two leads, but the unsteady handling of what is being presented as a serious problem with serious ramifications on the one hand but possibly just a bad patch on the other. Goldberg works in some really funny moments with Kevin Pollak as Hudson’s writing partner, and a hilarious turn by Mary Steenburgen, and Hudson’s frustration, which leads him to extremes in behavior to feel normal, is credible, but the resolution seems to undercut Hudson’s struggle to have his suffering taken seriously. It felt too easy to me, possibly because I began to root for the film, which musters a fair share of charm nevertheless. Charm is the operative trait of the title character in James Franco’s Good Time Max, despite said character’s frequent protestations of genius. Max (played by Franco) and his brother Adam (Matt Bell) are both bright boys, though Max is a natural, while Adam sweats for every half a grade. For some reason (cold bitch mother + oblivious father?) wunderkind Max turns cokehead almost out of middle school, and when his giant brain fails to keep him from getting in a shitload of trouble, he tags along with his brother, who is heading to LA for a medical residency. The fantastically handsome Franco, in a pair of look-at-my-nerdy-glasses (Adam wears them too), still has that jumpy, obstinate teenaged quality that has recently mellowed in its last best incarnation, Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s fun to watch the new leaf Max try to hold down an engineering job, and the office scenes are unexpectedly fresh even in their staleness. “Drugs are bad,” Max says, when propositioned by a co-worker. Well, yeah. What else? In due time, however, Max is back on the crack (or rather, the brain-eating crystal meth), and though we are meant to feel a greater sense of tragedy in Max betraying his brother’s trust, their bond is not established strongly enough to allow for it. Franco is clearly an involved, energetic director, though he does fall prey to the young director’s penchant for rock-and-roll, druggy-wuggy sequences (a couple of them find the twittering high of a drug haze very well-observed). The performances and direction are strong, but the material doesn’t quite measure up; just when you are beginning to think the film is going nowhere and taking a long time to get there (drugs are bad), Franco has Dr. Adam and Max do a switcheroo that is an even harder pill to swallow (ahem) than what has come before. Of these three films, none show off Los Angeles to the (haunting) extent of In Search of a Midnight Kiss, a film I was ready to lose my patience with early on, but that settled into a less congratulatory, astringent tone as it progressed. Writer/director Alex Holdridge’s obvious love/hate relationship with LA comes through in the creepy, beautiful and creepily beautiful exteriors shot in Woody Allen black and white; the script is more Before Sunset, minus the charm and the rapport. But that seems to be the point, at least initially, for Wilson (Scoot McNairy), another down and out screenwriter bonging the days away in his shitty flat. On New Year’s Eve he is goaded into putting an ad on Craigslist for a date, and a shrill, psycho actress takes him up on it. The two are all corners for a while, walking and driving through LA and exchanging deadly trite dialogue and wondering who will be first to beg off; romance, it seems, is dead, and Wilson in particular is prone, even in his loneliness, to move straight to vulgarity. As the night goes on (will they make it to midnight, is the question), Holdridge begins to try to cash emotional checks that are unsigned, but the actors seem to get their footing as the material warms up -– perhaps just as two strangers might. I enjoyed seeing that strange, picture postcard LA light subverted in the black-and-white photography, and the conclusion does manage a rather nice melancholy high. If the idea behind Yael Luttwak’s documentary, A Slim Peace, seems outrageous –- uniting Arab and Jewish in Jerusalem in the common goal of a smaller ass –- the execution is nuanced with wit and passion. Luttwak convinced Israelis, Palestinian, a Bedouin and two settlers (some of the women were religious and some not) to join a sort of weight watchers group, though her disingenuous claim that the group will not be political is immediately questioned by the Bedouin woman, who agrees to it nevertheless. Those there women all live quite close to each other, some of the Jews claim to have never met an Arab, and vice versa. In the run-up to and aftermath of the Palestinian election, which saw Hamas put into power, tensions ranneth over the ostensible chatter about fiber grams and calorie counts. Luttwak’s subjects are staunch women, fascinating subjects all, especially when, after the group disbands, most of them acknowledge that their superficial commonalities will never bridge their deep divides. This is a rare look at how life is lived by the middle class in this region; the native Israeli woman was surprised to find that she had more in common with the Arab from Ramallah than the humorless American Super-Jews from the settlement, and you might be too. Autism: The Musical (yikes) is Tricia Regan’s documentary about one woman’s vision for a host of autistic children, including her son, to put together a musical performance, against the odds. Following five children from their homes to the rehearsal space and back again, the faces of the parents are uniformly heartbreaking, but even the slightest sign of a child emerging from the locked in chambers of their brain provides immense relief. The statistics on autism are beyond alarming, and hopefully works like this (flashy title and all) will bring attention to the ramifications not just for the families but society at large. In Take the Bridge,Sergio Castilla’s intent debut, four young people attempt suicide in New York’s highly Dominican Washington Heights neighborhood, and are rather crudely united at the hospital. Unlikely friendships form, along with alliances in the struggle for a better life. The blocky dialogue of what seem to be reenactments (the film is narrated by a Dominican woman who shows up intermittently as a talking [gossiping] head in black and white) work against the game cast and heartfelt look at the fight to get out of (or fit back into) the hood. Discuss these and other Tribeca titles at Spout: Numb Good Time Max In Search of a Midnight Kiss A Slim Peace Autism: The Musical Take the Bridge Syndicated Feed From:The Reeler
]]>Tue, 08 May 2007 16:54:00 GMTTheReelerThe Reeler on Spout5/8/2007 12:54:00 PMMatthew Perry, smoked out in Harris Goldberg's Numb By Michelle Orange From this afternoon’s random sampling one might deduce that, like slime mold, all the sad young men have picked up and headed for the water. California, to be exact. Numb, Good Time Max, and In Search of a Midnight Kiss all seemed to have a bizarre number of things in common: dysfunctional men who move to Los Angeles; mothers who are either cold bitches or fare-thee-well featherweight and fathers who are absent or oblivious; a woman who’s going to fix everything (OK, only two of them have that); and a key character reference made via masturbation (one wants to jerk off on a bunny rabbit, another to his roommate’s girlfriend and the third to a three-second snippet of porn on a loop). I’m not even sure what all of this means, but it was too obvious not to note. Especially that last one. I only know one guy in LA, and I feel like I should give him a call. Maybe I can tell him about slime mold, it’s about the grossest thing I’ve ever heard. I have to admit I have always had a soft spot for Matthew Perry, and though I mourn the loss of his chin, I still find him a very appealing comic presence, one fizzing with the uncomfortable zetz of darker terrain. In Numb, a Canadian film directed and written by Harris Goldberg, Perry jumps at the chance to go deep, though the film keeps some softball humor at the ready. Perry plays Hudson, a moderately depressed screenwriter who (over)smokes a joint and is sent over the edge into what is diagnosed as “depersonalization disorder.” Desperate not just to feel like himself again but to feel anything at all, Hudson seeks out a variety of treatments, and a host of drugs, running the shrink circuit like the unholy gauntlet the filmmaker apparently believes it to be. When Hudson meets Sara (Tori Amos look-alike Lynn Collins), the need to get better becomes imperative; they trade flaws (he compares her to a lion, she insists he looks like an owl), watch the golf channel and tiptoe around what is clearly Hudson’s crippling issue. The problem (other than the fact that if Perry resembles anything it is -– as I have maintained for over a decade –- Beaker from The Muppet Show) is not the warm zip of chemistry between the two leads, but the unsteady handling of what is being presented as a serious problem with serious ramifications on the one hand but possibly just a bad patch on the other. Goldberg works in some really funny moments with Kevin Pollak as Hudson’s writing partner, and a hilarious turn by Mary Steenburgen, and Hudson’s frustration, which leads him to extremes in behavior to feel normal, is credible, but the resolution seems to undercut Hudson’s struggle to have his suffering taken seriously. It felt too easy to me, possibly because I began to root for the film, which musters a fair share of charm nevertheless. Charm is the operative trait of the title character in James Franco’s Good Time Max, despite said character’s frequent protestations of genius. Max (played by Franco) and his brother Adam (Matt Bell) are both bright boys, though Max is a natural, while Adam sweats for every half a grade. For some reason (cold bitch mother + oblivious father?) wunderkind Max turns cokehead almost out of middle school, and when his giant brain fails to keep him from getting in a shitload of trouble, he tags along with his brother, who is heading to LA for a medical residency. The fantastically handsome Franco, in a pair of look-at-my-nerdy-glasses (Adam wears them too), still has that jumpy, obstinate teenaged quality that has recently mellowed in its last best incarnation, Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s fun to watch the new leaf Max try to hold down an engineering job, and the office scenes are unexpectedly fresh even in their staleness. “Drugs are bad,” Max says, when propositioned by a co-worker. Well, yeah. What else? In due time, however, Max is back on the crack (or rather, the brain-eating crystal meth), and though we are meant to feel a greater sense of tragedy in Max betraying his brother’s trust, their bond is not established strongly enough to allow for it. Franco is clearly an involved, energetic director, though he does fall prey to the young director’s penchant for rock-and-roll, druggy-wuggy sequences (a couple of them find the twittering high of a drug haze very well-observed). The performances and direction are strong, but the material doesn’t quite measure up; just when you are beginning to think the film is going nowhere and taking a long time to get there (drugs are bad), Franco has Dr. Adam and Max do a switcheroo that is an even harder pill to swallow (ahem) than what has come before. Of these three films, none show off Los Angeles to the (haunting) extent of In Search of a Midnight Kiss, a film I was ready to lose my patience with early on, but that settled into a less congratulatory, astringent tone as it progressed. Writer/director Alex Holdridge’s obvious love/hate relationship with LA comes through in the creepy, beautiful and creepily beautiful exteriors shot in Woody Allen black and white; the script is more Before Sunset, minus the charm and the rapport. But that seems to be the point, at least initially, for Wilson (Scoot McNairy), another down and out screenwriter bonging the days away in his shitty flat. On New Year’s Eve he is goaded into putting an ad on Craigslist for a date, and a shrill, psycho actress takes him up on it. The two are all corners for a while, walking and driving through LA and exchanging deadly trite dialogue and wondering who will be first to beg off; romance, it seems, is dead, and Wilson in particular is prone, even in his loneliness, to move straight to vulgarity. As the night goes on (will they make it to midnight, is the question), Holdridge begins to try to cash emotional checks that are unsigned, but the actors seem to get their footing as the material warms up -– perhaps just as two strangers might. I enjoyed seeing that strange, picture postcard LA light subverted in the black-and-white photography, and the conclusion does manage a rather nice melancholy high. If the idea behind Yael Luttwak’s documentary, A Slim Peace, seems outrageous –- uniting Arab and Jewish in Jerusalem in the common goal of a smaller ass –- the execution is nuanced with wit and passion. Luttwak convinced Israelis, Palestinian, a Bedouin and two settlers (some of the women were religious and some not) to join a sort of weight watchers group, though her disingenuous claim that the group will not be political is immediately questioned by the Bedouin woman, who agrees to it nevertheless. Those there women all live quite close to each other, some of the Jews claim to have never met an Arab, and vice versa. In the run-up to and aftermath of the Palestinian election, which saw Hamas put into power, tensions ranneth over the ostensible chatter about fiber grams and calorie counts. Luttwak’s subjects are staunch women, fascinating subjects all, especially when, after the group disbands, most of them acknowledge that their superficial commonalities will never bridge their deep divides. This is a rare look at how life is lived by the middle class in this region; the native Israeli woman was surprised to find that she had more in common with the Arab from Ramallah than the humorless American Super-Jews from the settlement, and you might be too. Autism: The Musical (yikes) is Tricia Regan’s documentary about one woman’s vision for a host of autistic children, including her son, to put together a musical performance, against the odds. Following five children from their homes to the rehearsal space and back again, the faces of the parents are uniformly heartbreaking, but even the slightest sign of a child emerging from the locked in chambers of their brain provides immense relief. The statistics on autism are beyond alarming, and hopefully works like this (flashy title and all) will bring attention to the ramifications not just for the families but society at large. In Take the Bridge,Sergio Castilla’s intent debut, four young people attempt suicide in New York’s highly Dominican Washington Heights neighborhood, and are rather crudely united at the hospital. Unlikely friendships form, along with alliances in the struggle for a better life. The blocky dialogue of what seem to be reenactments (the film is narrated by a Dominican woman who shows up intermittently as a talking [gossiping] head in black and white) work against the game cast and heartfelt look at the fight to get out of (or fit back into) the hood. Discuss these and other Tribeca titles at Spout: Numb Good Time Max In Search of a Midnight Kiss A Slim Peace Autism: The Musical Take the Bridge Syndicated Feed From:The Reeler http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/depression/MemberTagFilms.aspxdepression
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