Mumblecore

What if there was a hot new trend in American independent cinema and no one over the age of 30 noticed?
 
Welcome to the DIY genre of mumblecore. The term was invented at the 2005 South By Southwest Film Festival, where several films screened that looked like they’d come out of a school that hadn’t been formed yet: micro-budget, loosely-shot affairs that focused, almost claustrophobically, on a simple story about twenty-something characters. Take Medicine for Melancholy, which was shot for less than the cost of a new car with a cast that pretty much stopped at a couple. The genre comes by its name honestly: as David Denby of The New Yorker has written, “The actors (almost always nonprofessionals) rarely say what they mean; a lot of the time, they don’t know what they mean.” This tic has led to a lot of parody: suggested alternatives for mumblecore include Myspace Neo-Realism. But an approach of a film like Funny Ha Ha, which might be summed up as a succession of awkward, half-desperate interactions, somehow makes the viewer feel like someone who’s eavesdropping on the life of a friend he hasn’t yet met.

In recent years, these films have become increasingly collaborative, as the directors of the coalescing genre began to befriend and support each other: Joe Swanberg acts in Aaron Katz’s Quiet City, for example, and Katz returns the favor by recording sound on Swanberg’s Nights and Weekends. Limited releases and on-demand television opportunities have made some of these films profitable, if on a small scale, but their continued production depends largely on the passion and commitment of their filmmakers. Starting with The Puffy Chair and including a panel discussion on the potential of small films to transcend their means, this series explores a trend in current filmmaking with a future as shaky as its promise is great, or, you know, great-like.

Wednesday, September 23, 8 pm
The Puffy Chair
(Jay Duplass, 2005, U.S., 85 minutes, DVCam)
The Duplass brothers, in this instance writer-producer-actor (Mark) and writer-director (Jay), tell the story of Josh (Mark again), a failed New York City indie rocker who’s also failing at his new gig as a booking agent. But he’s at least found the perfect gift for his father: a vintage 1985 Lazy Boy on eBay. Josh needs to drive cross-country to deliver the chair; the catch is that his girlfriend Emily and brother Rhett end up in the van with him, making for a journey that’s ultimately about a lot more than a giant purple chair. The feature debut of the Duplass brothers screened at the Sundance Film Festival and won the Audience Award at the SXSW Film Festival that spawned the “mumblecore” label. And they did it all on a budget of $15,480.

Thursday, October 1, 8 pm
Joe Swanberg in person!
Nights and Weekends
(Greta Gerwig and Joe Swanberg, 2008, U.S., 80 minutes, DVCam)
Joe Swanberg teams up with Greta Gerwig, the star of his two previous films, to write, direct, produce, and star in this unflinching examination of a couple struggling with a long-distance relationship. Mattie and James are split between Chicago and New York, and the film, which begins as their relationship starts to show some long-distance strain, is also split between their two cities. A yearlong break in the filmmaking matched a yearlong break in the narrative, adding a layer of authenticity to a film that already feels uncomfortably real. Nights and Weekends captures the intimacy of a relationship in a way that’s remarkably honest. Director Joe Swanberg will introduce the film.

Thursday, October 8, 8 pm
Funny Ha Ha
(Andrew Bujalski, 2002, U.S., 100 minutes, 35mm)
Considered the first film in the mumblecore mold, Funny Ha Ha follows recent college graduate Marnie as she navigates the world of temporary jobs and post-graduate malaise and tries, unsuccessfully, to cut down on her habits of drinking and going after the wrong guys. Writer-director Andrew Bujalski, who acts in the film as an awkward temp, made his fresh, stutteringly expressive first feature on a frayed shoestring. Shot over twenty hot August days, Funny Ha Ha showed up on top ten lists despite a limited theatrical release. An unadorned film about touchingly helpless characters, it finds, almost in spite of itself, a bit of small beauty in postcollegiate limbo and longing.

Thursday, October 22, 8 pm FREE!
Mumblecore Panel Discussion:
Small Talk, Big Moments?
Mumblecore movies are inherently small. Their cast, crew, budget, scope: everything about the enterprise is small. This can alienate as much as it can inspire: one person’s fascination is another’s boredom. But these films also capture moments that speak to larger themes and a potentially larger audience. But will they ever get there? And should they? Are small films like these intrinsically limited to a small audience, and are they therefore better suited for the small screen? A panel of mumblecore filmmakers will discuss the implications of their work and the challenges and potential of the ultra-low budget filmmaking process. The panel will feature directors Joe Swanberg, Aaron Katz, Frank V. Ross, and Barry Jenkins.

Thursday, October 29, 8pm
Medicine for Melancholy
(Barry Jenkins, 2009, U.S., 88 minutes, video)
Starring Wyatt Cenac of The Daily Show fame, Medicine for Melancholy, a departure from Cenac’s late-night work, opens with a couple of twenty-something African-Americans waking up together after a drunken night of partying. The movie follows Micah and Jo through their next day, and though the pair can barely remember meeting, their relationship quickly becomes close. Strikingly shot with a digital camera, Medicine for Melancholy is concerned with the sort of class and racial divisions that too seldom show up in indie cinema. The directorial debut of Barry Jenkins, the film made a heavy imprint on the festival circuit last year, garnering multiple Spirit Award nominations. Writing in the New York Times, A.O. Scott called it “an exciting debut, and a film that, without exaggeration or false modesty, finds interest and feeling in the world just as it is.”

Wednesday, November 4, 8 pm
Double Feature!
Dance Party, USA
(Aaron Katz, 2006, U.S., 65 minutes, DVCam)
Quiet City
(Aaron Katz, 2007, 78 minutes, DVCam)
Dance Party USA focuses on a slightly younger demographic than the other films in this series: the summer lives of teenagers in Portland, Oregon. It doesn’t depart from the seemingly mundane, though: Gus and Bill’s friendship consists of recounting their sexual exploits and ignoring their future. At an unruly Fourth of July party at a friend’s house, Gus, not unpredictably, meets a girl, but instead of sex, what follows is an intimate conversation in which he divulges a secret that has long been haunting him. Funny, thoughtful, and ultimately surprising, Dance Party USA takes a satisfyingly unconventional approach to the late-teen cinematic scene, incorporating a few big questions into the typical sophomoric debauchery.

Aaron Katz’s second feature, Quiet City, makes the logical demographic transition, moving his characters from their late teenage years to their early twenties. Jamie arrives in New York City late at night expecting to meet up with her friend but finds herself lost and alone when she can’t get her friend on the phone. She asks a stranger, Charlie, for directions and ends up spending the next day with him in Brooklyn, wandering through parks and art shows and discussing the uncertainties of life. A quiet, unexpectedly dignified film, Quiet City is about the uncertainty and loneliness that can arrive after college ends. Fellow mumblecore director Joe Swanberg plays a small role as a friend of Charlie’s.

Thursday, November 19, 8 pm
Director Frank Ross in person!
Present Company
(Frank V. Ross, 2008, U.S., 86 minutes, video)
Director Frank Ross also stars in this film about Buddy and Christy, a young couple who live in Christy’s parents’ basement with their baby, Mikey. Christy works as a waitress but wants to write, while Buddy has become a plumber’s apprentice. The pair struggles with their responsibilities to their child amidst their diverging career and life paths, existing very separately outside the home and facing the difficulties of working together inside it. In his fifth feature film in eight years, Ross places the emphasis in Christy and Buddy’s interactions on that which is left unsaid, revealing a downward turn in their relationship that might be inevitable.