A Slipping-Down Life

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.

Sort of warmed-over grits -- containing every trite character and expression that inhabits "Southern" storytelling down through O'Connor, Welty, Flagg, etc. None of the parts is more than one stereotype after another.

Therefore, the viewer is compelled to observe by contrast any small feature that redeems the larger picture. In this instance there is one that stands out: the versatility of actor Guy Pearce playing a weak, indecisive, and mushy musician whose impact lies solely in how he how he takes on an impossible role and somehow brings it to life.

How this Australian actor can master such a wide variety of theatrical work is something of a mystery to me. Lacking the "star" quality of such countrymen as Crowe and Gibson, he nevertheless steals every scene of every picture I have seen in which he appears, from "Priscilla" to "L.A. Confidential" to "Memento." Very impressive indeed. Worth watching this otherwise drab film.

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" 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.

Guy Pearce could have a career as a singer based upon what he does in this movie - the vocals he performs as "Drumstrings Casey" are phenomenal - and the always-brilliant Lili Taylor turns in another beautifully realized, multi-layered portrayal as Evie Decker, the film's center. What I liked most was how she wasn't a groupie or a pushover but rather a 3-dimensional person with a strong mind, and I liked how Pearce's character slowly came to realize that he needed her. Ideally, this should have been an overwhelmingly compelling film but it suffers from a weird kind of vagueness, which could have worked for the material but instead it pulls us away from it, so the ending isn't as satisfying as it could have been. Still worth catching on cable nonetheless, for the two brilliant central performances.