A Musical Life: Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench

I work in a very small office. Despite this--or maybe because of it, as we all wear multiple hats--it was several years before I got to know people I'd been in close proximity to for most of my waking hours. Turns out I work with a lot of talented artists, writers and musicians. Who knew?

A couple of weeks ago I was having a discussion with one of these coworkers--also a writer, also a former high school theatre geek--about what life would be like as a musical. As in, anyone could burst into song about his/her feelings at any given moment. I had one word for this: "awesome." His counterargument was a bit more articulate: "But loud. Really loud. There would be one person singing over here, another one singing over there." He had a point. Still, I'd love to sing and dance out my emotions for just one day a year. It's what I miss most about performing: not being the center of attention, but taking whatever shit you had going on that week, pulling a Stanislavski and "using it."

A few days ago, in the midst of a particularly stressful morning, this same coworker appeared at my cubicle and presented me with a DVD. "You will love this," he said. And he was right.

I give you Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench.

Remember how Once was technically a "musical," but didn't seem like it? There were no giant production numbers, no overdubbed vocals, no obvious lip-synching. The story was simple, the characters naturalistic, the songs organic. Granted, the protagonists were musicians, but their lyrics reflected their situations and relationships better than spoken words ever could. They weren't always happy with their lives, but they were surrounded by music, and that made day-to-day struggles a bit more bearable.

Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench is a lot like Once, only there's also tap dancing. And it takes some talented filmmaking to make tap dancing seem off-the-cuff.

At first glance, the film's plot isn't a complicated one: Guy plays jazz trumpet and Madeline is a grad student. They're together, until they're not. Guy gets another girlfriend, Madeline looks to change her environment entirely. But is it really over between them?

Pretty straightforward, right? Except not really. Because as anyone who's ever dated anyone else knows, there are often lingering feelings. Regret. Memories good and bad. Wondering if you did the right thing by leaving or being left without a fight. And what better way to work all this out than trumpeting and tapping?

Oh, and the entire movie is shot in black and white with a handheld camera. Before you roll your eyes at the pretension, let me reassure you: it works. The black and white brings to mind MGM musicals of old, and the handheld adds an earthy quality. The musical numbers aren't slick and polished. They project happiness, but also nostalgia, gloom, desperation. And lastly, optimism.

My coworker is right: the world would be a louder place if we lived in a musical. However, I wouldn't mind living inside Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench. Everyone looks better in black and white, sounds better warbling about the time they kissed a boy in the park. Even from the depths of heartbreak sound lovelier in song.

Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench is now available on DVD. Probably not at your local Redbox, but it's worth the hunt.

A Change Would Do You Good: Everything Must Go

I know it's all marketing and hype, but I'm an absolute sucker for a good tagline.  Four or five carefully chosen words can be all it takes to transform my moviegoing mindset from "maybe, if I'm bored" to "definitely, first week it's out!"  I know I'm being manipulated, but when it's done well, I happily submit.

Not long ago, the poster for Everything Must Go, the second film in the genre of Will Ferrell Can Be Serious, Y'all, went up at my friendly neighborhood indie theatre.  The tagline?  "Lost Is a Good Place to Find Yourself."

Me?  Sold.

In 2006, I graduated from law school and accepted a job at a Chicago firm.  Exactly two months after I started, I was let go.  I went from being the textbook young urban professional to a girl adrift, without a plan or a way to pay my rent.

It was one of the best years of  my life.

I walked around a lot, reacquainting myself with a city I'd left five years before.  I hung out with my struggling actor/waiter roommate and scavenged for cheap eats, drinks, and entertainment.  I worked temp and retail jobs (luckily, this was before the economy collapsed).  I reevaluated everything, and ended up changing my career focus entirely.

To an outside observer, I was never more lost.  To my close friends, I was never more excited to be alive.

Based on a short story by Raymond Carver, Everything Must Go is nothing particularly new or groundbreaking, but it explores the liberated lost soul in a quiet, lovely manner.  Will Ferrell is at his craggiest as Nick Halsey, a former top salesman and recovering alcoholic who quickly relapses after he is fired for inconsistent job performance and a questionable business-trip escapade.  On the very same day, Nick returns home to find his wife has left him, changed the locks, and thrown all his wordly possessions on the lawn.  When Nick's sponsor and neighborhood cop (Michael Pena, also very good in the middling The Lincoln Lawyer) informs him that Nick has five days to vacate his front lawn, Nick decides to hold a yard sale, much to the curiosity of a pregnant neighbor (Rebecca Hall) and an outcast kid who just wants to play baseball (Christopher Jordan Wallace, son of Faith Evans and the late Biggie Smalls).

Sure, there are a lot of indie tropes at play here: the lovable loser, the pretty artsy chick, the renegade youngster who teaches everyone an important lesson.  There's even a happy-go-lucky blast from the past in the form of Laura Dern, who has a sweet if slightly cloying cameo as Nick's former high school classmate.  That said, even the most predictable cliche of predictable cliches can be incredbly effective if done well.  (Many argue there are only five stories to be told anyway: the magic is in the telling.)  I appreciated how Nick wasn't a pure victim of circumstance: he'd been in and out of rehab several times, and let himself get into a sticky situation with a female colleague.  It's not surprising that he wasn't a good husband, and he's not instantly redeemed.  There's an edge to Ferrell's performance: the humor is sharp, the anger and bitterness palpable.  Many comedians have sad, dark undertones as performers, and Ferrell plays these to the hilt.

What I also appreciated was the film's ending: I won't spoil anything, but let's just say it doesn't wrap up neatly with a bow on top.  Nick still has a ways to go and a lot to reevaluate.  However, I believed he would be okay.

I'm grateful not to be lost anymore.  I'm even more grateful to be employed, to be able to pay my bills and stay afloat in a world where many are struggling.  That said, I'm most grateful for the time I got lost.  Like the ever-effective tagline said, it was the best place to get found.

Happythankyoumoreplease, or My Life As an Indie Movie

On Friday, I saw Happythankyoumoreplease, which was basically Josh Radnor of How I Met Your Mother fame's attempt to be Woody Allen.  It kind of worked, in no small part because Radnor--who also played the lead--is quite adorable.  (Not that Woody Allen's adorable, unless your name is Soon-Yi, but you get my drift.)  And for once Malin Akerman, aka The Worst Working Actress in Hollywood, didn't annoy me too much, even though it was obvious she thought she was sooo deep for playing a hippie chick with alopecia.  However, the AV Club (who I would kill puppies to write for) made a good point: if Radnor weren't an established TV actor on a popular series, this movie probably wouldn't have gotten past the screenplay stage. 

Why?  Because it is full of Indie Movie Cliches.

And because I am a sucker for Indie Movie Cliches, roll my eyes at them as I am buying my ticket to whatever twee attempt at capturing the Stuff White People Like experience, I began to wonder.

What would my life be like if I existed in an indie movie?

Here goes:

1.  I would have long hair.  With bangs.  Unless I was the manic and/or perpetually horny and/or E-popping club-hopping friend/foil of the male protagonist.  Then I could keep my short hair.

2.  I would either play the guitar or have a charming yet sultry singing voice, which would only be used for folk songs, ironic covers of 80's hits, or Kander & Ebb showtunes that outline my life's overarching themes or the lesson I am supposed to learn that day.

3.  Speaking of music, I would have a ton of it.  Whenever I had sex, created something meaningful, saw someone on the street who would eventually play a huge part in my life, came to a major decision, or just sat and pondered my life, there would be gentle guitars and gravelly male tunefulness or uber-feminine warbling right on cue. 

4.  Jeff Daniels would be my dad.  Or my sad sack love interest.  Either way, Jeff Daniels would be involved.

5.  If my love interest weren't Jeff Daniels, he would be a mopey, vest-wearing, Smiths-loving gent with a quirky day job that still stifles his natural artistic instincts to pen navel-gazing prose, draw loser-turned-superhero comics or design arty buildings.  OR he would be a nerdy stalker who takes photos without my knowledge which he later shows to me to prove how beautiful I don't know I am, and instead of calling the police for a Temporary Restraining Order, I am totally charmed.

6.  I wouldn't have any gay male friends.  I would, however, know a lesbian or two who wanted to adopt or get turkey bastered.

7.  If there were any children in my orbit, they would draw meaningful pictures and spout innocent wisdom causing me to question my values and possibly get pregnant.

8.  I would--only once--get drunk and sleep with my ex, and feel quietly empty and regretful the next day.  And possibly get pregnant.

9.  My apartment building would have a stoop to sit on with my friends while we drank bottled beer and wondered "where is my home?"  That's more than an Indie Movie Cliche.  That is an Indie Movie Law.

And finally...

10.  As a woman, I would only exist as the sarcastibitch sister who swears a lot, the friend/foil who listens supportively between E-popping and club-hopping, or the long-haired pixie musician who captivates the whiny manboy protagonist simply by making eye contact with him on the sidewalk while sporting an Anthropologie sundress.  If I were one of the first two, I might get a subplot where I acquire a nerdy stalker or impregnate myself via ex or turkey baster.

Hey, I love indie movies.  If I didn't, I wouldn't be familiar with all these cliches.  However, just FOR ONCE can there be an indie movie with a smart, funny young female protagonist?  With someone who has a corporate job and is happy about it?  With gay characters who are real people?

I know they're all out there, but there are not enough.

Script Frenzy is coming up.  I don't know shit from apple butter about writing a screenplay, but I'm a little tempted to give it a shot.