Personal Velocity: Three Portraits

as you probably have heard, this is a movie that consists of three portraits. three very contrived, hard-to-watch portraits.

this movie charges out of the gate with incredible potential, including a great cast, an effective score, and nearly disorienting (yet, rather successful) camera work. additionally, at the start of the first portrait, the narrative freezes, and the narrator urges the viewer to, "wait!" so he can explain something about what's going on. this device is wonderful, and immediately gives the viewer a healthy shot of intrigue. additionally, at this point, you'll probably be really excited at the unorthodox pacing that the film seems to be setting up.

that's all in the first few minutes. and this movie literally screamed in a nosedive downward from there.

while "personal velocity" bucks conventions in many ways, it bucks the concept of storytelling so much that it is simply contrived. want to see development, plot, resolution? not here. this movie tries HARD to dodge all these things, and relentlessly starves the viewer of any of these elements with its spare dialogue.

but in the absence of these elements, what's left is - quite frankly - repetition. the characters simply keep doing what they did in the first moments of their portrait (or at least what the filmmakers set them up to do). and while they rather gratingly repeat their actions, there is no true character development.

to combat this (and surely the problem of converting short stories to film), the movie employs a narrator. this (and the repetition) is the downfall. first of all, who is the narrator? well, it's a male, which is strange since this is mainly a story about three women. ok, but why is he male? and why is he speaking so conversationally at some points? and why does he know of all these women? none of these questions are answered, and the viewer is forced to contend with this narrator who speaks incessantly throughout the entire film.

now this narrator suffers from an additional problem, which plagues the film: heavy-handedness. the narrator says things like, "she could feel the emotion like a vortex pulling her soul inward." that's actually not a direct quote, but it's very close. i am not exaggerating. at one point a character says, "you look you're waiting for something." and the narrator breaks in, "she was, she always has been." this movie can't afford such lead-weighted narration. and it certainly does not fall in line with the narrator's other parts where he's talking about how great kyra sedgewick's ass looks in jeans.

in the end, you've got however many minutes (i don't know 90ish?) of superb acting and inventive cinematography. but anchoring it down without an inch of slack to go anywhere is an overbearing narrator, and three equally overbearing and repetitious movements of what could have probably been a compelling film.

The best thing about this film are the three superb performances by the lead actresses in each segment. It's also a chance to explore the potential for short form film narrative by putting three short films together to create a full length feature. If these three films had been produced individually, almost no one would ever see them. The film is exciting too, as an example of the artistic possibilities of low budget digital film making. As others have mentioned the narration almost sinks the movie. I'd love to see a DVD alternative version without it.

Closeup- Beth in Car Door Window-Door handle opening as someone gets in-Closeup of his handsome face--Beth: Can you excuse me, I have to stop for donuts. Closeup of Shop Door, Beth walking in then ignition key turning as hitch hiker moves her car. Beth looks away. Beth: Hurry with that couple of dozen, I'm pregnant. She carries the donut box out, gets into the car. The Hitch Hiker's hand grabs a donut from the box, Closeup of a donut hole. His mouth munches one down. Cut to Rain falling on car back window, steam rising and groans from within while he makes out with her. Later, interior, apartment, Beth's hand is seen picking up a script. The cover page reads, "Never use close camera angles or other devices so often it makes the viewer lose interest in the characters and story. Try to film a movie the way you'd like a live audience to watch it. Grade F, see me. Professor Hollywood Hack."

This film, directed and written by Rebecca Miller, is a very satisfying experience for a new director who, here, is adapting her own material with a lot of relish and savoir-faire. There's a certain elegance in the way she treats her characters, always respectful, yet incisive. The only complain we could raise is the fact that each story is very short, so when we are still savoring each one, individually, Ms Miller, for reasons of timing, pulls them from under us.

The first story, Delia, shows a woman's worst fears in being married to a wife beater of the worst kind. She might have had dreams of making a happy home for her family, but her man has another thing in mind. This woman is a step above white trash. She tries hard to get herself together but everything keeps interfering with her independence. Played with gusto by Kyra Sedwick, Delia ends up as a waitress in order to support herself and the children. Her encounter with the bully from the restaurant is an exercise in how low they want her to go, but she comes out a winner.

The second story, Greta, is the best of the three. With the help of the great Parker Posey, this Greta comes out as the tough woman she wants everyone to think of her, but deep down, inside her, she's a vulnerable and frightened and unfulfilled over achiever. Ms Posey has never shown so many nuances in a performance that is so economic in the terms that are dictated by the length of the story. We get to know more about her than the narrator ever tells us. Every expression on this actress face is true. It's surprising what has been achieved here with the collaboration of the director and the player.

The last story, Paula, is the weakest. It's all about a very confused young woman who's out on the road to see her parents. She has very deep problems. Along the way she picks up a hitchhiker who stays with her through the trip. Paula is in a voyage of discovering, but little does she know that what she needs is what she has left at home: her Haitian man, who obviously cares a lot about her. As played by Fairuza Balk, she shows the turmoil in her head that only she can resolve.

We hope Miss Miller's next time out will be very soon because she's got a feel for getting inside her characters and finding angles they didn't even suspect of having.

A critic I read before seeing this movie (Lynden Barber of the Sydney Morning Herald) opined that it was a book illustrated with film rather than a proper movie. He's right, but that does not make it a complete write-off. There is as much voice-over as in a football match (why use a male?) but the visuals still convey some of the stories, which are not all without interest.

There are three separate stories of women having trouble with men; two from the working class and one an upwardly mobile book editor. They are tenuously connected by a street incident. One has a bashing husband, another, a husband she has outgrown, and the third has problems with her boyfriend, her stepfather and her maternal instinct. All seem to favour running away as the solution; stand and fight is not the female way, at least not in New York State.

The author of the original short stories is Rebecca Miller, who also directed from her own screenplay. This certainly accounts for the literary quality. Rebecca has a famous literary father, the great Arthur Miller, and I suspect he is in the film somewhere as a character or at least a presence. The working class girl stories are too trite to be involving (though very well played by Kyra Sedgwick and Fairuza Balk) but the middle story of the book editor (played coolly by Parker Posey) rings true. The use of digital video suits the subject-matter (Dogma 95 on the Hudson) and the whole thing is competently realised. It is the weakness in the first and third stories that disappoints.