Showing posts with label Gaby Hoffman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gaby Hoffman. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Wild



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Jean-Marc Vallee/Starring: Reese Witherspoon, Laura Dern, Gaby Hoffman and Thomas Sadoski

Who in their right mind would embark on a trail walk, which spans a stretch from southern California to Oregon; alone, laden with an overstuffed backpack and with sporadic access to food and water? And why would said person--a woman--attempt it alone? Cheryl Strayed, the author of the best-selling memoir; Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, did just that and now her story has been adapted for the big screen by director Jean-Marc Vallee, whose Dallas Buyer's Club earned its share of Oscar nominations and awards last year.

Watching Wild called to mind other films in what could loosely be called a genre: Into the Wild, which starred Emile Hirsch and 127 Hours , with James Franco. All three films are based on real-life experiences and all involve individuals seeking adventure or in Strayed's case, something spiritually therapeutic. But what distinguishes Wild from its predecessors is its female protagonist. Though all three films have their share of peril, a woman alone in a cross-continent hike intensifies the inherent elements of danger and risk, which makes for a compelling story and terrific cinema.

Reese Witherspoon seems like an unlikely choice to play Strayed; her small, slight frame makes her undertaking seem impossibly Sisyphean and improbable.

As we follow Strayed forward on her journey, we also are pulled to her past as we learn why someone with no hiking experience would attempt something so nutty.
Watching Strayed's logistical preparations inside a motel room reflect an almost comic ineptitude. Food supplies and unwieldy gear attached to her backpack make it necessary for her to bend and leg-lift the weight onto her back and watching her struggle, one wonders how she will manage a 1000+ mile hike.

Watching two cars with men at a gas station, we see Strayed decide which is the less-dicey means of transportation to Pacific Crest Trail (A.K.A PCT); a father and son in a mini-van or two sketchy guys who are the very incarnation of a bad idea. The decision is significant, for most people Strayed encounters on the trail are men, who will challenge her ability to distinguish between those who might mean her harm and those who are more benign.

Seeing Strayed struggle early in the deserty, Southern Californian part of the trail, hiking a thousand miles seems like a far-fetched notion. Though she toughs it out, she tries to overcome gear limitations, one being a portable stove unit that won't work, which condemns her daily meals to coldness.

In the first of many encounters, Strayed meets a farmer in the middle of nowhere and asks for a ride. The farmer seems reluctant at first, then insists she wait until his work is finished, which means sitting idle in his truck. On the drive, we feel Strayed's apprehension as the conversation initially sounds threatening when he insists she stay at his house but she finds to her relief the farmer is actually married and becomes helpful to her before he drops her off on the trail again the next day.

As Strayed makes her way on the trail, we begin to see her memories of her life, in the form of flashbacks, that prompted her herculean undertaking. We see her childhood; where her mother Bobbi (Laura Dern) raises Cheryl and her brother alone after the family flees their abusive father. Bobbi, whose irrepressibly buoyant spirit shapes her optimistic worldview, is tirelessly loving to her children.

Along the way, Strayed stops at small trail stations that hold registries where hikers can record their progress or leave comments. We see her leave quotes from authors and poets on the page (which also appear before us on the screen) but she adds her name to the writers', which tells us their sentiments captures her own perfectly.

Strayed begins to make progress on the trail, arriving at places where other hikers congregate. One even gives her helpful advice about her hiking shoes, which cause her excessive blistering and in one scene, a gruesome detachment of her toenails. He recommends she contact the hiking/camping outfitter REI where she bought her boots to request a better pair, which they can deliver anywhere for no charge. The stops along the way also allow her to receive care packages from friends and her ex-husband.

Further on the trail, we begin to see more of her flashbacks. We watch as her mother receives news about her terminal cancer, which devastates Strayed and her brother. In most of Strayed's memories, we see the powerful bond she shared with her mother, which makes the scene on the deathbed all the more powerful.
The agony of her mother's death leads her on a self-destructive course of heroin and infidelity that eventually wrecks her marriage. The scenes of a ragged and filthy Strayed on the street, scoring hits of heroin and having sex with strange men in hotel rooms and alley ways give us a sense of her recklessness and psychological decline. In another scene, she confides to her friend Aimee (Gaby Hoffman)that she is pregnant but is unsure of who the father might be.

It is common for recovering alcoholics and drug abusers to engage in extreme physical activity, which makes Strayed's hike a reasonable response. It seems only a cathartic 1100 mile hike through rough terrain and snow could purge the angry demons tormenting Strayed.

After watching a hiking boot slide down a snowy mountainside, the anger and emotions come to a boil, which Strayed expels with a rage-intensive scream before hurling the other offending boot after its twin, never to be seen again.

With the exception of one woman, Strayed encounters mostly men in her trek and though many are pleasant, one exception is particularly harrowing. She meets two hunters; one of whom can't let the idea of a possible rape pass. The scene is frightening but hardly unexpected. It seems one of the film's motifs involves the men in her life and on the trail and how they affect her. From her abusive father to the men she engages in adulterous sex with to the one that robs her on the street to the friendly and threatening men on the trail, to her cuckolded husband and her brother, the film is as much about how she copes with men as it is about a woman undertaking a journey alone.

What ultimately happens at the end of the hike is hardly news, given the book's popularity. While overlooking a bridge at her destination, she gleans some cleansing, hard-earned wisdom from her journey, and over the closing subtitles we learn the distance she covered (again, 1100 miles), which is very impressive, given her lack of training and proper preparation.

I was really moved by the film and Strayed's story. Rather than intersperse long and medium shots of Strayed on the trail to emphasize her alone-ness, Vallee instead keeps us close to her and her surroundings utilizing handheld cameras. I think this was a more effective way of telling the story, which allows the audience to be at her side; to hear her whispery comments and see the physical toll the long hike takes on her body. We know Strayed has been many places, in her head and in the world and it shows in her face and appearance.

I also found the use of song rather than a score to be highly effective and affective. Vallee uses Simon and Garfunkel's El Condor Pasa as a musical theme that could represent Strayed's thoughts well. But the song's lyricism also reflects her love for poetry, which serves as an intellectual and emotional companion on her journey.

Witherspoon is terrific. I must admit I was skeptical about her casting after seeing the previews but her performance is startling for its intensity and range. She handles the role quite nicely.

Whatever value judgement one assigns Strayed's actions, one thing remains incontrovertibly clear: she was brave and she showed a fierce determination. Whatever she came away with, she most certainly earned. The film could serve as a cautionary tale or as supreme inspiration. However one regards Strayed and her hike, Wild makes its indelible mark on a relatively new genre and proves (though it isn't the film's intent) that women can easily match men for mettle and mental fortitude. Its company is welcome in this season of cinematic excellence, where it distinguishes itself well.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Obvious Child



**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Gillian Robespierre/Starring: Jenny Slate, Gaby Hoffman, Jake Lacy and Richard Kind

Some former Saturday Night Live alumni bear the stigma of leaving the show without ever having the opportunity to shine but later they manage to blossom on the stage, T.V. or film. Jenny Slate, a one-time SNL alumnus, may join the likes of Chris Rock and Sarah Silverman--other alumni who succeeded nicely after undistinguished stints on the show--by establishing her own comedic credentials with the feature Obvious Child.

Slate plays Donna Stern, a woman in her twenties who does stand-up comedy in a local club while also holding down a job in a bookstore that is in its death throes. Her boyfriend has just dumped her for another woman and she medicates herself with excessive drinking. While not bemoaning her relationship status with her roommate and friend Nellie (Gaby Hoffman), she seeks moral support from her divorced parents; father Jacob Stern (Richard Kind) and mother Nancy (Polly Draper).

Early on I felt uneasy; thinking the film was going to be one more Lena Dunham-like, navel-ogling, mopy, comedy-drama with a character who can't seem to find Mr. Decent. The story mercifully veered from the well-worn into the unexpected.

Donna meets a handsome, twenty-something named Max (Jake Lacy), whose nice blandness seems to be a polar extreme to Donna's smart, hip, city-wit. But after a night of one-too-many, the two find themselves lying next to one another in bed the next morning. Donna, still smarting from her break-up and mildly stalking her ex, resists Max; avoiding him and ignoring his calls.

The story takes a significant turn when Donna learns she is pregnant with Max's child. I thought I could accurately plot the rest of the film from this point. But unlike Diablo Cody's Juno, with her character making a seemingly provocative but actually an audience-pleasing choice, Obvious Child blazes a more difficult, more controversial course by showing us a character who is resolute but emotionally unsure in her decision to have an abortion. It is all the more difficult when Max's determined pursuit of Donna leaves her feeling the guilt of removing him from the decision.

It's to first feature director Gillian Robespierre's credit that the film doesn't degenerate into predictable, ABC Family-like drama but maintains its sharp humor, sometimes subversively so. One example is some Donna/Nellie repartee that includes some jokes about abortion, which are funny without trivializing the issue.

I particularly liked the scene where Donna confides in her mother Nancy, with whom she has had a tempestuous relationship. Providing solace and some solidarity, Nancy relates her own experience with abortion in the 60s', which sheds light on a darker time when a woman had more rigid legal and societal obstacles (which haven't vanished altogether).

Jenny Slate is quite amusing and does much with her character while the supporting cast members like Gaby Hoffman, Gabe Liedman and David Cross offer their own funny witticisms and performances to keep the movie humming. Jake Lacy is the film's nice, white-toasty, almost impossibly nice and supportive love-interest but he seems plausibly so and manages to even exude a subtle magnetism.

Obvious Child is a film whose charms take a while to emerge and when they do, they satisfy. For Robespierre and Slate, it is a fine start to what I hope will be a series of fruitful collaborations.