A Slipping-Down Life

I am a fan of Flannery O'Connor's Southern gothic, the kind of short stories that define `grotesque,' where humor is slow, characters are off center, defects abound, and life is a series of stops along the born-again trail. First-time writer/director Toni Kalem (`Sopranos') channels O'Connor when a lady sitting in an early scene of `A Slipping Down Life' has a large wound on her knee, not featured but just there as the camera pans the group.

Besides minor grotesqueries, the major one consists of the name Evie Decker (Lili Taylor, `Casa De Los Babys') inversely carves on her forehead with broken glass: `Drumstrings. ' `Drum' Casey (Guy Pearce, `Memento') is a soulful country singer catching wallflower Evie's fancy, implausibly marrying her, and along with her going through a few hells on the road to rebirth. The thirteen original songs Pearce sings are melancholic country, all the more impressive because of his singing.

The road is littered with Southern stereotypes (O'Connor never allowed those types in her very original stories) like Clotelia (Irma P. Hall, `Lady Killers'), whose black housekeeper is a true throwback to unoriginal Hollywood typing of the early 20th century. Add Drum's rube family members and slutty Faye-Jean Lindsay (Shawnee Smith) as an oversexed, overacting girl friend and you have an inexperienced director ignoring the nuances of Anne Tyler's novel, from which Kalem adapted.

But `A Slipping Down Life' belongs to Lili Taylor, who gives us a sympathetic young virgin, lovingly attached to her introverted widower father and doggedly determined to make something of Drum's talent and her life. Her underplayed demeanor and plain looks offset the grotesque mark on her forehead; her strength of character ("I've never backed down on anything in my life") serves further to distance her from the usual Southern hicks so popular in immature cinema.

In his `Autobiography,' W.B. Yeats described the link between self and happiness and renewal so much a part of this film's power: `I think that all happiness depends on the energy to assume the mask of some other self; that all joyous or creative life is a rebirth as something not oneself, something which has no memory and is created in a moment and perpetually renewed.'

Although the story brings no surprises and repeats some Southern chestnuts, the film ultimately succeeds because of the principals' considerable acting talent and the sheer truth of a young couple trying to escape their tyrannical roots to be reborn.

"A Slipping Down Life" was originally released at the Sundance Film Festival in 1999, but because of "creative differences" between the producers and the director/actors, it never was released...until now.

Lion's Gate Films now owns the distribution rights. The film premieres in NY and LA on May 14th (elsewhere across the United States in late May/early June).

I saw the movie last month at the Phoenix Film Festival. Toni Kalem, the director, was present, and she conducted a Q&A session with the audience after the showing. One of the common topics during this discussion was related to the differences between the book and the movie.

While I haven't read it, it appeared that the die-hard fans of the book were totally drawn in and satisfied with the movie (and Anne Tyler, herself, gave her "official approval" to Toni Kalem's screen play adaption).

Lili Taylor is absolutely brilliant in this movie, and Guy Pearce offers a performance you might not expect.

Finally, before heading out to see this, make a point to grab a box of Kleenex - I found myself in tears more than a few times.

I saw this earlier this year at a film festival and was pleasantly surprised by it. This is a well told story with some thoroughly engaging performances.

People used to seeing Guy Pearce in intense roles should be in for a nice surprise. It's a low-key performance as a budding singer and he plays very well off Lili Taylor, who turns in yet another wonderful performance.

Although the subject matter might seem a bit weird, initially, Pearce and Taylor build such a beautiful rapport that you buy into the story and go along for the ride. The script is peppered with delightfully understated humor. There also are two superb supporting performances by Sara Rue and Shawnee Smith. Even Bruno Kirby has an entertaining cameo.

I'm surprised this film has yet to be released commercially and is only now receiving publicity. If you're in the mood for a charming, quiet, funny and offbeat film, this one will do the trick.

A Slipping down life was shelved for many years, and the lack of real hipness or accessibility is probably to blame for this. Helmed by two indie stars Lili Taylor and Guy Pearce, this film was held back simply because neither person could conceivably carry this film.

But unlike some crappy movies that see a rebirth it didn't deserve, ASL was quietly pushed into the underground cinema and then quickly reborn on cable. And while this doesn't sound good on paper, ASL actually surprises you a little with some of the little nuances within each character's performance (with the exception of Sara Rue and Shawnee Smith---ugh!!). Lili Taylor exhibits yet another introverted woman who is somewhat shunned not just due to her nature but also her looks. Much like previous films Dog Fight and even The Haunting (where her character was visibly overwhelmed by Catherine Zeta-Jone), Taylor makes you believe she is her character rather than an actor. And some people say method acting is dead.

Guy Pearce is especially interesting in this film. I especially liked the transgression of him embodying all the things his father hates and then turning into his father near the end. It was a strange transformation but an effective one. And its even more impressive how he can cover up his deep Australian with an effective North Carlina twang.

While the plot was pretty random at best, at least these two performances added some life to a film that would have been altogether listless.

"A Slipping Down Life" is better at showing the power of radio and music than explaining the characters inspired by it.

Lili Taylor's "Evie Decker" is living in a house filled with the sounds of radio and not much else in her life, as we see in somewhat mocking scenes that duplicate from many movies about small town Southern life from "Last Picture Show" to "Fried Green Tomatoes," etc. Her dad spends his time exploring short wave frequencies ("There's too much damn Spanish in the world!") and she's hooked on the romantic dedications and atmosphere created by WLUV.

So it's His Voice that gets to her first, as she hears an interview with a local singer/songwriter trying to establish himself as "Drumstrings Casey" and she's inspired to actually go out to see him at a local club.

Guy Pearce perfectly captures the type; while he's singing --quite well-- songs actually written by Canadian Ron Sexsmith, he floored me that his body language of being both sexy and laid-back virtually duplicated rootsy singer/songwriter Chris Whitley from the first time I saw him perform back in '91 for a similarly small audience. So I can certainly relate to "Evie"'s emotionally charged response to him -- but her actions are just plain odd, as she changes from passive guilelessness to exhibitionist stalker.

Debut writer/director Toni Kalem (a Jersey girl who is also "Angie Bonpensiero" on "The Sopranos" and can't resist sticking in Bruce Springsteen references here and there) confusingly shifts gears that I don't know if come from the original novel by Anne Tyler as I haven't read it yet. Both characters start getting more sympathetic and complex as they get more co-dependent and much more than just musician and fan, and more intriguing than Keith Carradine with his various groupies in "Nashville."

Though some pithy truths do come out, their artistic and emotional viewpoints are inconsistent as they try to find themselves, together and apart, with only hints of psychological explanations, such as "Casey"'s relationship with his mother, a former singer herself, and his hearing local bluesmen. But in maturing you do have to take a few steps back in order to go forward. The conclusion satisfyingly comes together around music and the radio, but is awkward plot-wise.

John Hawkes of "Deadwood" is also charming as the band drummer and promotion-seeking manager.

Nice range of singer/songwriter music on the soundtrack, but it doesn't reflect the Southern milieu that is so carefully visually established.