| The
Review: |
The women of Rebecca Miller's "Personal
Velocity" are not just the victims of endless physical and
psychological abuse at the hands of men, but also the heroes
of their own misfortunes. Here is a movie that knows the inner
workings of its characters, and is unafraid to capture their
ups, their downs, and their transitions between the two with
unfiltered, honest candidness. ***
In my review of Tim Blake Nelson's
"The Grey Zone," I commented on his apt display of filmmaking
abilities and talent, especially for a filmmaker with only
two feature films to his name. The same can be said of Miller,
this also being her second feature; like Nelson, her credits
include the screenplay, based on the novel which was also
written by her. This is most certainly a very personal project,
for in her work she shows a great passion for the craft, weaving
a distinct pattern of emotions through three separate stories
in such a fashion that once it's all over, the film's sole
flaw is that it ends so quickly. ***
The film opens with the story of
Delia (Kyra Sedgwick), a housewife with three young children
who lives with her abusive husband, for whom she harbors a
longing that stems from her past relationship with her hippie
father, and her penchant for teenaged sexual explorations
that left her with a high feeling of empowerment. The second
story focuses on Greta (Parker Posey), who works at a knockabout
big-city publishing firm; words gets around to a big-name
author that she is known for her cutthroat editing tactics,
and he requests to collaborate with her on his next project.
The final tale rests on the shoulders of Paula (Fairuza Balk),
a Goth girl who, after learning she was pregnant and watching
a man die all in one evening, now finds herself even more
puzzled by life when she picks up a young hitchhiker who has
been badly beaten. ***
Each of the stories is shot in
digital film, a format which is just beginning to surface
in more pictures these days. Previous exercises, however,
have failed to be less involving: there was the gay drama
"Drift," which benefited from a realistic look but had no
clue about itself story-wise; then we had "Tadpole," which
was good, but failed to live up to the issues it raised. With
"Personal Velocity," however, the format doesn't necessarily
announce itself as something to be admired or criticized:
Miller uses it to add a tremendous sense of realism to the
events of the characters' lives without making it seem like
a mere gimmick. Not that previous films are otherwise guilty
of this, but for some reason, this one seems to work the best
to date. ***
Perhaps it is because we are invested
so deeply into the lives of Delia, Greta, and Paula, that
we simply have no desire to start picking the movie apart
for such things as style. These are some of the most well-drawn
and intricate characters I think I've ever seen in a film:
we become so immersed in their separate stories, and so engrossed
by their eventual realizations and reawakenings, that nothing
else seems to matter. ***
The central ideas concerning their
emotional problems and difficulties are all influenced by
the men present in their lives, but in a variety of ways.
Delia's will and defiance of the men around her is surpressed
when she is around her husband because he was the first man
with whom she really ever "made love," so to speak; all those
before him were simply a roll in the hay for the sake of doing
something. It is this deep-rooted attachment to him that has
caused her to stick around even when he beats her, sometimes
in front of their children; one night, she snaps, wakes the
kids up, and heads for the women's shelter, and later to the
house of an old friend, where she gets a waitressing job and
starts getting her life back together. There is a quiet resilience
in Delia that is brought out beautifully by Sedgwick's performance:
her marriage has required that she keep her emotions subdued,
and now that she is out of that situation, she knows not how
to handle her feelings. ***
For Greta, things started out lousy
and pretty much remained as such up to the present, though
she isn't as quick to acknowledge the faults of her adult
life. This is the result of her father, a high-powered lawyer
who left his first wife and family for her mother, and later
deserted them many years later for a woman Greta's age. His
acceptance of her comes only when she receives her big promotion
after her editing efforts make serious waves; although she
may not realize it, her drive for success is directly related
to her need to satisfy her father, whom she has never truly
hated, and from whom she inherited another dastardly trait:
his adulterous ways. As played by Parker Posey, we see a woman
who never quite broke free like she thought she did; she may
claim to despise her father, but deep down inside, there is
always some small desire to be daddy's little girl once again.
***
Paula's situation is altogether
different in that there really isn't a dominant male influence
in her life; aside from her Haitian boyfriend and a stepfather
whom she sees maybe five minutes out of every year, there
is no constant here. Her emotional turmoil arises when she
reveals her pregnancy to her boyfriend: they quarrel, and
she goes to a club with friends and makes nice with a guy
she meets. Her happiness is short-lived, however, when he
is struck by a car and killed, a mere minute after switching
places with her and allowing her to walk on the inside, away
from the street. With this tragedy burned into her mind, she
blames herself, so when she comes into contact with the injured
hitchhiker, she sees helping him as her chance at gaining
some self-redemption. ***
Of the three performers, Fairuza
Balk gives the film's most potent and brutal portrayal. I
can still remember her role in "American History X," a minor
character given an added boost by her capabilities as an actress.
Here, her performance is electrifying and supercharged with
fierce emotional energy; in the scene where she begins to
clean the cuts found on the boy's body, and later puts him
to bed, she breaks down in such a convincing manner that all
that is left to do is lose oneself into her sorrows and shed
a tear or two with her. ***
All three of these stories end with
uncertainty, which is as it should be. The strength of the
performances and the weight of the character development make
it so that we don't really need any closure to the varying
plotlines: there is enough confidence between these women
and the audience to ensure that whatever decisions they make
will most likely be put towards finding themselves again.
What Rebecca Miller has done here is simply spellbinding:
her direction and writing are spot-on and invasive of her
characters' inner-workings, and she uses the depth of the
material and the intimacy of the camera and medium to make
"Personal Velocity" an illuminating work of great substance
and power.
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