Listen Up Philip

The story of the struggling writer is not unknown to Jason Schwartzman. He lead the brilliant but oh-so-short HBO show Bored To Death, about a writer who has to turn to detective work for inspiration and cash on the side. It was fresh, because that was just a framing device for something more fun. Listen Up Philip uses struggling to write as the backdrop to cynical drama and sour "I told you so's." If the walls could talk, they would gossip about the fights that have taken place over the years. It opens with a sequence in which Schwartzman's Philip celebrates finishing his second book by rubbing it in the noses of those who didn't believe in him. That's where he gets his satisfaction.

That's the bitter world of Listen Up Philip. Every character is selfish, and miserable for it. The result is a film that's difficult to sympathize with the characters, especially Schwartzman, but it doesn't necessarily ask us to. They may be self-pitying victims of their own hostility, but they eventually do come to self-realizing conclusions, if too late. The film suggests that to make great art (in the form of novels) it requires isolation, cut off from the city and the ones you love, alienating them – as if this is the only way. The jerky behaviour aside, not just general standoffishness but frequent overlapping of relationships, it begs the obvious question of "is it worth it?" Well, no, it's not. Perhaps there are many creatives in the world that need this lesson, either way writer/director Alex Ross Perry is keen to explore it and take us with it.

With a less familiar cast, this would definitely be labeled a mumblecore film. It borrows a French New Wave aesthetic (complete with a jazzy score) featuring rugged and dark hand-held 16mm photography. It can be a little sloppy with a lack of restraint, having some sequences comprised entirely out of dizzying close-ups. It does however add important weight to the drama and fortunately grow more confident by the second half of the film. This style is inherently intimate, if not necessarily engaging, and we feel like voyeurs. In turn, the humour of the film just doesn't work. It didn't elicit a laugh from me, only a smirk. It's not necessarily cringe-worthy, it's just the offbeat nature of it doesn't land in this environment, despite its 'Laugh' categorization at this festival.

It's the ensemble that gives the drama the atmosphere the film needs. The script is otherwise serviceable, with a couple of idiosyncratic if indulgent licks scattered throughout. Instead it's more interested on being on the verge of tears. Elizabeth Moss is the undeniable highlight. She's always been fascinating to watch on AMC's Mad Men, and here she shows the ferocity and vulnerability that makes Peggy compelling. Her character may feel extraneous, but her presence is most welcome. Also great, but on a lesser scale, is Jonathan Pryce, who teeters fine lines with skill and makes a character that could've otherwise been trite (aka the cautionary vision of the future for Philip) believable and endearing. However, the film often seems too aimless with no end game in sight. It feels more organic, but it's missed potential.

In the second half, the narrative bounces through the three characters, a little clumsily, but it's better for exploring the characters with a bit more depth than it could have missed with a straightforward approach. The style is a little free form, which can feel quite liberating, but mostly hints at a lack of discipline in Perry. Even with the film's rawness, it does feature touches of Wes Anderson with a Tenenbaums-esque articulate and omniscient narration – one that only barely justifies itself – as well as insert shots of books inscribed with in- jokes. Maybe the involvement of Schwartzman just attracts that unique style, although here it's rarely connected to him. The cast saves Listen Up Philip from being a complete chore but it still suffers from unsympathetic characters and tired clichés. Save the struggling writer scripts for the exercise pile, please.

6/10

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Pretty good first half, really suffered in the second half. Its structure could've been really effective, but it's just jarring and, quite honestly, bored me as it went on. The ensemble is the biggest reason to see it. Schwartzman is good, Jonathan Pryce is pretty good even if his segment is definitely where my interest waned. And then there's the easy highlight of it all.

My love for Elisabeth Moss has never been a secret. She's already given an all-time great performance in Mad Men, somehow managing to steal the show from Hamm at her best moments. Earlier this year she had The One I Love, a great film with a fantastic performance from her, and so I happily singed her praises. And now I can sing them again, to an even higher degree. Her character is easily the most interesting, although how much that had to do with Moss remains to be seen. Regardless, it's a shame she's not the main character throughout. She's able to really tap into so many facets of Ashley with pitch-perfect line deliveries and emotional expressions. She's a fantastic silent actress, and she's able to convey just about everything that the role requires with so little. Many actresses could've done well in the role, but we might not have even known how much the role really required. Moss is absolutely spectacular, definitely one of the finest performance of the year so far. For her it's worth it.

Philip Lewis Friedman (Jason Schwartzman) is a self-obsessed writer angry at everyone and everything. His new book is getting bad reviews. His girlfriend Ashley Kane (Elisabeth Moss) is tired of his antics. She finds companionship with her sister Holly (Jess Weixler) and a cat. Philip finds a new mentor in writer Ike Zimmerman (Jonathan Pryce) and he has a vacation home away from the city. Ike's daughter Melanie (Krysten Ritter) sees right through him.

Philip is a horribly tiresome character. It becomes a matter of how much of this annoying character one can truly take. I wouldn't call him an interesting ugly character either. He's simply an angry little selfish man. The Zimmermans aren't much better. Ashley is a much more compelling character. I'm really glad when the movie switches over to her story. Elisabeth Moss really hits it out of the park. If only this movie is about Ashley but it is not. It is sadly about Philip.

"I'm not 'successful,' I'm notable. And I'm not even notable—noteworthy, at best." Phillip (Jason Schwartzman)

Such is the direct, diffident, and off-putting novelist Phillip (Jason Schwartzman) in the smartly-written Listen Up Phillip. As the quote suggests, he is so solipsistic as to think only of himself anyway. But unlike the case of cranky Ben Stiller's Greenberg, I am fascinated by this misanthrope who keeps getting lovely girlfriends and interesting acquaintances. Such is the lot of an emerging artist.

Ashley Kane (Elisabeth Moss), a successful young photographer, lives with this sourpuss or rather endures his withering criticism of her and himself. Indeed, he brings self loathing to a new level. I like that honest but unkind attitude because I often have those thoughts but would never be as incorrect as to announce them (Ibsen's Wild Duck warns against total honesty—we all need a basic lie about ourselves). When my friends and I have a rollicking good time, it's mostly over sardonic assessments of ourselves, so I identify.

Jonathan Pryce is priceless as the once great Jewish author, Ike Zimmerman (both authors remind me of the anarchic, brilliant Phillip Roth; think of Ghost Writer). He takes Phillip under his wing, but he also has resentments masked by his equally blunt mien (the two are a great match, word for bitter word).

As in Roth's and Woody Allen's world, NYC is an ever present character. The authors try to avoid its magnetic influence by vacating to write. For sure, the city is a boon for creativity but a failure at production. I surely can understand how the city's cultural overload could compromise the best of literary intentions.

Witty writer/director Alex Ross Perry's Listen Up Phillip is as much about fulfilling one's artistry and making friends as it is about publishing. Nothing in NYC is easy, and if you're a narcissistic author, its downright brutal. Yet, as Ashley tells Phillip, "It's hot, you being mean." Only in NYC could being mean get girls.

A bizarre movie. A young writer's (Philip) second book is about to be published. He is abrupt, ill mannered, impolite, unpredictable from beginning to end. At the beginning of the movie he rebukes his ex girl friend just because she came late to their appointment, saying he was planning to give this copy to her, but now he is not giving it, and he is living. Later he stops planned promotion of his upcoming book like out of blue sky. Then he leaves his girl friend to get mentoring from an old, famous writer. The guy is just super ego centric, behaving jerky, irritating the viewer from beginning to end. And Jason Schwartzman just fits to this role so naturally.

But funny thing is that this character has its charm also; particularly to women. He gets attraction at first, goes into relation. and then he destroys his credits in the relation without caring.

Can one live like that? Why would/should one like to live like that? What does he want? does he hate to be politicly correct? or just does not want to be a hypocrite? These are the questions stroked my mind after the movie.

One other striking thing in the movie was the superb performance of women characters. From Philip's girl friend Ashley (Elisabeth Moss) to Emily (Dree Hemingway - I would love to see Dree Hemingway in main roles. There is something so teasing with her). They were hyper modern day's real, casual, lovely women.