Sundance Dispatch: Bruges, Ballast and Park City Banter

Every year, it seems like [somebody] slams Sundance for the late-January excess of parties and crass commercial sponsorship that dominates downtown Park City. Regardless of whether there’s any truth to the complaints (there’s definitely some), it still features a ton of movies—and some of them are pretty good. I arrived here on Thursday evening to catch trademark Sundance voice box Robert Redford emphasizing the festival’s progressive aspirations. “It’s a place of discovery, so you’ll find what you’ll find,” said the world’s most famous seventy-year-old redhead to a packed house at the Eccles Theatre, shortly before the opening night film, In Bruges, had its world premiere. “One of the words I’ve noticed a lot is ‘change,’” he said, and suddenly the crowd chuckled. Was it a nervous laugh, considering Redford’s preachy Lions for Lambs flopped late last year?

It did initially seem like he was revving up for a political diatribe. “God knows, you’d have to be Rip Van Winkle not to notice this country has been in need of a change,” he added—and here there was some applause, although a guy to my right actually booed—and then he came around to his point, emphasizing the role of the artist in capturing the finer points of the modern world: “Artists are the first responders. They document change as it’s coming.”

Cheesy as it sounded, Redford’s warm assertion appropriately downplayed the prevalent glitz. Colin Farrell was in the audience—he’s one of the stars of the opener, playwright Martin McDonagh’s feature-length directorial debut— but it was the movie, not the celeb, that emerged as the star of the show. Though McDonagh’s stage work remains his strong suit (The Pillowman is like Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party on speed), In Bruges suggests an intriguing new direction for him. While very European in its implementation of existential despair, In Bruges occasionally works as a black comedy. Farrell plays one of two meandering hit men (the other is played by Brendan Gleeson) whose last job goes wrong when Farrell’s character accidentally kills a child. Following the orders of their humorless boss (Ralph Fiennes), the two fellas head to the titular Belgium town and wait for instructions. Trouble ensues by way of drugs, robbery and a tangled new mission that pits them against their best interests. Although the climax feels forced and murky, McDonagh crafts a series of entertaining vignettes, and Ferrell puts on his most comically-inspired performance ever. The precise wit of In Bruges makes up for its flawed construction, and the name itself is its best slapstick joke—they’re in boring old Bruges and nothing they do can get them out.

Here’s festival joke I found: What happens when Ben Kingsley gives counseling sessions     to a drug dealer in exchange for exchange for pot?  The answer isn’t a stinging punchline, but it’s still a pretty zany comedy. The Wackness, a fairly high profile Sundance title whose premiere on Friday has both befuddled and enticed potential distributors, features Kingsley in a frumpy wig and Josh Peck as his troubled teen disciple. Jonathan Levine, the director, has a far more conventional horror movie coming out next month called All the Boys Love Mandy Lane, but here he shows a real desire to work outside the box. Set in 1994 with Guiliani-era New York City politics as the vague urban backdrop, The Wackness follows Peck’s thuggish stoner character during his last summer before college, an uncertain time for the plucky guy when anything goes: Drugs, virginity, and the lease on his apartment all come into question, as does his sense of identity. With vibrant Method Man beats on the soundtrack (the rapper also plays a small role) and a lot of visual flair, The Wackness has a sort of hypnotic effect even as it strains to make the most (at 110 minutes) of its basic story.

Levine directs some ridiculously amusing sequences to reflect the way his doleful protagonist interacts with the world; an innovative hand cam shot that follows his middle finger through a journey in the city streets might set a new precedent for first person angles. Kingsley’s fake Bronx accent is sometimes grating, but it’s surely the oddest, more memorable roles he’s had in quite some time. And yes, you may have heard that Mary-Kate Olsen, in a minor role as a local hippy, locks lips with the Ghandi star, but that’s a pretty minor plot point. Despite its overbearingly confrontational tone, The Wackness has a solid coming-of-age premise, clearly an ode to Levine’s own experiences. Asked at the premiere about the specific setting for the movie, he suggested as much. “For me, it was a lot about the music of the time,” he said. “I didn’t want to do a high school coming of age movie and try to figure out what was cool today. I figured I’d stay on top of the shit I knew—which was 1994.” Sir Ben, meanwhile, gave Levine a compliment of the highest order. “It had the authority of an ancient novel,” he said of the script. “The relationship I share with Josh is like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.”  Actually, it’s more like Marty McFly and Doc Brown played by Cheech and Chong, but whatever, right? It’s wack.

Also wack: Roman Polanski. The famed director is the subject of a fascinating new documentary called Wanted and Desired, Marina Zenovich’s investigation into the finer details of the botched statutory rape case that lead to his self-imposed expulsion from the country. Polanski’s decision to flee from the charges has become such a prevalent part of his legacy that the trial has faded from public memory, but it’s certainly the intriguing part of the tale. Although still responsible for the sin of seduction, Polanski was clearly subjected to an unfair situation when the publicity-hungry judge conspired against the director for sake of his own reputation. Zenovich offers a comprehensive survey of the events and does a fine job exploring Polanski through the lens of his films, ultimately crafting a portrait of pity.

Pity might be the best word to describe the efforts of Blind Date, Stanley Tucci’s bland remake of murdered Dutch filmmaker Theo Van Gough’s 1996 drama, but not to its credit. Focused on a depressed couple (Tucci and Patricia Clarkson) trying to reenergize their lives in the wake of their daughter’s death, the movie unfolds as a series of encounters between the despondent pair, but their conversations are turned rigid by too much dead air and a stolid pace.

A better experiment with minimalism is Ballast, a small movie that deserves to become a big discovery. First time director Lance Hammer weaves a tightly controlled narrative about a shattered African American family living in the Mississippi delta and coping with a central character’s suicide. It’s a slight production, but it manages to build to intensity through the patience of its design—like a slowly falling teardrop climaxing in a deluge of sadness.

Impressed as I was by Ballast, it’s definitely something of a downer—so, after the Saturday night screening, I sought a pick-me up. On Main Street, I hustled my way into a packed concert topped by The Honey Brothers, a nifty rock group that includes Adrian Grenier and Ari Gold. Yep, Ari Gold—but not the slick agent played by Jeremy Piven on Entourage, which stars Grenier. Gold, a filmmaker, is an old pal of the actor, and directed him in the comedy Adventures of Power, which screens in the festival’s midnight section. If all goes as planned, I should catch the movie sometime before the sun comes up again here in Utah, so stay tuned for future dispatches throughout the week. For now, I can say that The Honey Brothers are definitely worth checking out, sporting a thick emo-inflected sound that doesn’t break any new ground, but stands firmly on conventional rhythms. When Grenier took the mic, he briefly acknowledged his celebrity stature, urging “all those tabloid writers out there not to write weird stuff. Here, we’re underground.” For Hollywood sorts, that might just qualify as an offbeat adventure of power.