Where I Begin

I am not a film critic or have never written a review, but as part of one of my classes at the university I was forced to go and see Where I Begin.

I was hesitant at first and did not want to go to the screening, as in general I am not a fan of independent film. And at the end of the day I was extremely blessed to have been able to see an early screening of this movie.

The movie pulled me in form the very beginning. The characters, the story, the beauty and pain of everything that is Where I Begin is captivating and breathtaking.

I was actually moved to tears and cried in front of my girlfriend for the first time , which was a little embarrassing to say the least.

If you have any emotions, or know what it is like to go through family problems, or just have a simple loving bone in your body, the movie will take its toll on you emotionally.

I have thought about this movie since I watched it and am dying to see it again.

I was fortunate enough to be able to talk to the director Thomas L. Phillips and get some of his insight on the film. He has so much passion and love for what he does and for Where I Begin in general, that you can see it and feel it in him when he discusses it.

The performances are just outstanding, and I did not recognize anyone of them, but I know that each and everyone of them could be known in the film world one day, that is how strong each and everyone of them are.

The movie is perfectly pieced together and told effortlessly. Everything unfolds right in front of you and you do not want to turn away.

If you get the opportunity to see Where I Begin, I highly recommend that you do so.

When you look at movies filmed in North Mississippi, you're not looking at much. No film has gone out of it's way to capture the Gothic that is very much still alive in the dying towns of the South and the fascinating people who cling to them in this particular way. With only a handful of movies shot in this region, none have really taken the small town conflict to this level in a full length film, either. There is a lot to explore here; I dare you to watch this and NOT feel something. And really, the cinematography is gorgeous.

In recent memory living in this area, we've seen the filming of The Cookies Fortune, A Gun in Betty Lou's Handbag, The Help, The People vs Larry Flynt, and a few notable others.

But not since Intruder in the Dust (1949, and based on Faulkner's book) has a movie taken the kitsch and comedy out of Mississippi and put it on hold while the grit gets the forefront. Subject matter is strong here, the acting is authentic while the dialogue toys with the southern accent and prose of the English language better than it's given credit for. This film, I have no doubt, will be making it's rounds at quite a few festivals soon and will be well received. Don't miss an opportunity to see it if you get the chance.

There was no character development. Absolutely no closure to the film. This movie is nothing more than a liberal criminal crying that people still hate him for a rape he committed 10 years ago. Stupidest movie I've wasted an hour and 17 minutes on. Don't bother watching.

Recently viewing this at the Oxford Film Festival, I realized that there's nothing like a festival to demonstrate just how much goes into independent film-making (a term, I know, that is itself open to challenge). No one feels such a proximity to a multi-million-dollar effects-driven blockbuster. Perhaps that's why we go to them. But when we go to one of these increasingly popular, regional film festivals (and if you haven't, I strongly encourage you to do so), we see the people behind the process, attempting to make something much closer to our experience, with an admirable attempt at transparency (via Q&As, related social events, etc.) After attending one of these, you might be tempted to think that you could pull it off. You can't. The truth is that film-making is an incredibly intricate process demanding attention to detail, people skills, incredible organization, and a hundred other hidden talents. So, merely pulling off the technical aspects of making a film for under $300,000 demands some credit. I couldn't pull it off. Hence at least three of my four points.

But that's as much as I can muster. The action surrounds Jacob (Alex Walters), who is back in his small town after a ten-year absence. I won't reveal why he was ostracized here, as I'm not sure whether his alleged crime is supposed to be a surprise. We don't find out exactly what for until relatively late in the film; then again, nothing in this film felt like a surprise. The characters on the screen took human form, but they didn't sound like any humans I know -- more like soap opera clichés, minus the passion; consequently, I found an involuntary snort emerge from my nostrils when a character was cursing, supposedly in anger. It sounded instead like a sixth-grader who was experimenting with cussin' for the first time but couldn't get over the novelty of saying something naughty.

In any case, we watch all of the characters contend on some level with their perception of what happened on that fateful night ten years before. Tyler (Bo Keister) is so upset about it that he has become Jill's (T. Lynn Mikeska) drug daddy and plain old bully to just about everyone else. More specifically, he is gunning for Jacob and is willing to intimidate anyone who tries to get in his way. The thing is, not everyone is intimidated by him, like Patrick the sage, easy-going bartender, played patiently by veteran Lance E. Nichols. (I couldn't help noticing that this is the only bar in America where people order everything BUT alcohol.) Also, Tyler's sister Kristen (Catherine Elizabeth Connelly); she's not afraid of him. Come to think of it, neither was I.

Throughout the film, I felt as though director Thomas Phillips was unreflectively derivative, by which I mean that he went into a bag of tricks and regularly pulled out something that looked cool but then thoughtlessly placed it in the film: Bergman-esque silences in dialog so prolonged that I began to wonder if someone had forgotten lines or was narcoleptic, frequent thematic montages that seemed intended to imply connection but to no discernible purpose, and so on.

Candice Michele Barley holds up reasonably well under the circumstances as Haddy, who initially serves as our guide through an investigation of what really happened but who eventually gives up because... I'm not sure why actually. Something Jacob says or does eventually convinces her that he's innocent... or that it doesn't matter. Maybe she's just decided that it's time to switch from a seedy father (Johnny McPhail) to a seedy boyfriend. To be honest, by that point, I was just trying to figure an inconspicuous way out of the theater.