A college professor once told me that “cynicism was the death of art”. If that is truly the case, then Thirteen Conversations About One Thing is DOA. There is no joy in Mudville, or in this case, director Jill Sprecher’s vision of modern-day New York City. The film follows four or five different characters in intersecting, depressing short stories that seem to be constructed in the tradition of the Greek morality play (which hardly ever works out well for the protagonists). However, for the most part, moralizing on screen tends to fall flat, particularly with the way Sprecher and her sister Karen execute this in the screenplay, letting the characters all wax poetic on their different theories on the human condition in the 21st Century. Lots of chatting, let alone overt philosophizing, usually interrupts the momentum of a piece and Thirteen Conversations is no exception. To some degree, the writing is also heavily overwrought – with a handful long monologues that blatantly explain the themes of that particular storyline, instead of letting the audience draw their own conclusions.
The pitfalls within the screenplay are made even more glaring and unfortunate given how strong the craft elements of the film are. The cinematography and framing are very sharp. The film is well lit and staged. The internal scene editing is smart and concise, using close-ups only for optimum impact and only pulling back wide when absolutely necessary. Like a good gambler, Sprecher and her editor seemed to know when to hold them and know when to fold them. Even the soundscape of the film is detailed, which adds an extra, usually ignored layer of meaning of the film.
The ensemble are all good, which isn’t surprising since actors love to gnash their teeth on long, talky, theatrical scenes like the ones presented here. Matthew McConaughey, Alan Arkin, Clea Duvall, John Turturro and Amy Irving play the five protagonists of the film, though Irving’s scenes are more of an after-thought and for the most part are extraneous. Out of everyone, it probably surprises no one that Arkin does the strongest work of the group. His forty years on-camera experience serves him well as, unlike the other actors, he lets his face and body do most of the work instead of the words. As a result, his storyline is the most effective, interesting, evocative and cinematic.
Even strong acting and filmmaking, however, can’t save the film from its own heavy-handedness or its negative outlook. In a way, the film’s pessimism acts as a kind of stylization, but it even further separates the film from verisimilitude. Life can be really shitty at times, but it isn’t as joyless as Thirteen Conversations seems to paint it. The films that feel the most real are the ones that have some semblance of balance between the good and the bad, the high points and the low. Thirteen Conversations About One Thing had a lot going for it – strong plots with potential, good, willing actors, a great sense of craft – but it never manages to be a high-quality, enjoyable or engaging viewing experience. It gets mired in its worldview and its didacticness, which most audiences reject like bad medicine. And so, the film, in spite of all its strong elements, winds up flatlining.
(For more information on this or any other Reel 13 film, check out their website at www.reel13.org)