The Dish & the Spoon

I stumbled across this movie on Netflix, and watched it because a "Delaware beach town" was mentioned in a review. I lived for several years in Rehoboth Beach, DE.

As far as reviewing the film, I won't. I seldom follow any reviewer's recommendations as I find them to be totally useless. Nobody can tell me what I'll like or dislike; I must find that out for myself.

The biggest reason I am adding my 2 cents is that "an abandoned lighthouse" is mentioned in several places as the spot where the two characters meet.

In actuality, the "lighthouse" is a submarine lookout tower which was used in WWII. These towers dot the seashore along Delaware's east coast.

Anyway, I did enjoy the movie and will recommend it to friends, if only for the familiar scenery. I especially liked the brewery tour in the Dogfish Head brewery as I have sampled many of their beers in their bar/restaurant in Rehoboth.

I enjoyed this movie, as it does not feel constructed in the way most movies are. It makes you feel the way you would feel if you were in Rose's shoes, overwhelmed by emotions and with no idea what you are going to do next. Enslaved by pain and bored by the lulls in between when she does not know what to do and acts without thinking. For me this movie feels totally realistic and true. Of course some scenes make no logical sense, but we are all a bit illogical especially when hurting. Still they are interesting to watch as other lives not our own seem more interesting sometimes. There are moments of profound truth and emotional release that are very impressively acted and filmed and make the movie totally worth watching. Don't expect a masterpiece, a precious gem, but a nice round pebble smoothed by the sea.

The entire movie feels much like the opening - a long drive through a tunnel with a woman crying. Occasionally an amusing or artsy shot is added but they are not enough to redeem this exercise in boredom.

What little plot there is centers around the weekend (maybe) escapades of a woman whose husband slept with another woman. She finds a young man sleeping in a lighthouse and develops a quirky relationship with him. There appears to be no reason for many of their actions, particularly a scene in which she makes him a transvestite. Little is learned about the couple or their motivations. In fact, the name of the man is never revealed. The movie is best characterized by long takes of the actors homely faces.

The few moments of artistic interest, such as when the man excellently draws her face in the sand, do add something. The moments are too fleeting, however, to suffer the 90 minutes of agitation and boredom that this movie instills.

I wanted to like this picture (brave little independent film launches out into the big world at London Film Festival), and it has a striking opening sequence. Unfortunately, by the halfway point it started to feel laboured; by the end, fatally, the characters had become annoying rather than sympathetic, and the whole thing came across with an amateurish feeling.

It feels too long for its actual content: too many would-be-meaningful shots of driving, of landscape, of the camera looking at characters, of characters looking at each other, of 'oh-look-I-managed-to-catch-a-flock-of-birds-in-the-viewfinder' (this happens several times, and while it's a pretty composition and no doubt a challenging achievement, it doesn't really do anything for the film as a whole). And it needs a better script -- it sounded a lot of the time as if the characters were improvising their dialogue as they went along, and there is little coherent plot. The film manages to give the overall impression of someone's Film Studies degree project material expanded to feature length, not always successfully.

Perhaps the most frustrating scene is where the central pair, for no reason that ever becomes apparent, act out a scenario that involves the woman, dressed in man's clothing, performing a sexually aggressive pick-up on the young man, tricked out in make-up, a necklace and a padded bra -- like so much of the rest of the film, this scene doesn't go anywhere plot-wise, and I just got the impression that the director thought it would be a fun thing to get the actors to do. It's certainly confusing for the audience. (I was actually wondering at one point if we had been subjected to an artful piece of misdirection, and that the unfaithful spouse was actually being revealed as a partner in a lesbian relationship -- but apparently not.)

"The Dish and the Spoon" (again, why this title?) starts off with an interesting premise (and some jaw-dropping ranting on the part of Greta Gerwig), but gradually lost this viewer's engagement. This sort of free-flowing improvisational stuff really isn't in my line: your average B-movie would squeeze in six or seven times the plot and far more dialogue into two-thirds of the running time of this picture.

Apparently it's 'mumblecore', 'wacky', 'quirky'. It isn't me.

As modern American tiny-budget indie rom-coms go, this is sweet and charming, managing to avoid falling into most of the mumble-core traps and cliche's. There's something more successfully wistful and sad than usual in this tale of two mismatched and very quirky young people stumbling into each other's lives.

When we meet 20 something Rose, she's literally wailing and crying as she drives her car – seemingly without aim – after discovering her husband has been having an affair. Before long she meets a young, sweetly quiet English boy in his late teens, who came to America to meet up with a girl, and has now been cast adrift by her (maybe – there's a lovely question mark over all this character's stories. While there are scenes that are too precious, and moments where it feels like the film-maker and actors are working a bit too hard and self-consciously at being charmingly weird – moments where you can almost see the actors/director think "this will be a cool choice" - there's also a lot of humanity and quiet emotion in the performances by Greta Gerwig and Olly Alexander – creating characters who both seem caught on the edge of real emotional trouble -and in the muted, touching images with which Alison Bagnall frames them.

Yes, maybe we cut to migrating birds one too many times, or we're ahead of the supposed twist of a scene now and then. But it's the moments of fragile human complexity that feel unusual in any American film-making these days, large or small, and which ultimately won this a place in my heart.