Rating:
Director: Ethan Hawke
Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Christine Vachon, Pamela Koffler
Writer: Nicole Burdette
Director of Photography: Richard Rutowski
Cast: Robert Sean Leonard, Uma Thurman, Kris Kristofferson, Vincent D'Onofrio
| CHELSEA WALLS Rating: Director: Ethan Hawke Producers: Gary Winick, Alexis Alexanian, Christine Vachon, Pamela Koffler Writer: Nicole Burdette Director of Photography: Richard Rutowski Cast: Robert Sean Leonard, Uma Thurman, Kris Kristofferson, Vincent D'Onofrio |
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Review by: Warren
Curry
4/14/02
More than a few critics will probably tag Ethan Hawke's directorial debut, Chelsea Walls, a vanity film made by an actor, who's grown self-important enough to actually believe that he can direct. On the surface, this criticism may appear valid, as the rambling, light-on-structure narrative seems to stumble from one character to the next, without any obvious rhyme or reason. While, at times, sitting through Chelsea Walls felt like a chore, it's a film that sticks with you and certainly warrants reflection. Ultimately, the movie is a mixed bag, neither easy to dismiss nor embrace.
New York's Chelsea Hotel has long been known as a home for many of New York City's aspiring artists. The hotel has hosted residents from Arthur Miller to Bob Dylan to Andy Warhol (I first learned of it as the place where Sid Vicious killed Nancy Spungen). The group of struggling artists, who are explored in this film, include two female poets, Grace (Uma Thurman) and Audrey (Rosario Dawson), a painter named Frank (Vincent D'Onofrio), two fresh-off-the-bus musicians, Ross (Steve Zahn) and Terry (Robert Sean Leonard), and a bitter, washed up, alcoholic writer Bud (Kris Kristofferson). There's no "plot" per se, but the narrative thread depicts all of these characters in some sort of disarray, whether it is Audrey's naive, desperate loyalty to the man (Mark Webber) who always leaves her or Terry's realization that a life of artistic fulfillment in the big city may just be a thing of romantic idealism. It's an ensemble piece, and therefore, a slice of many lives being led within the walls of the common bond that ties these people, their hopes and disillusions together.
Based on the play by Nicole Burdette (she also penned the screenplay), Chelsea Walls is occasionally lacking form, but Hawke establishes a great tone for the piece that doesn't seem forced or pretentious. It's downbeat without being sad, understanding of its characters, yet staunchly refusing to wallow in their misery. It's not exactly profound, but it doesn't profess to be.
As a visual director, Hawke has some work
to do. Even given the fact that it's shot on DV, the movie looks
especially crude. Sure, it's atmospheric to a certain point, but
then it just becomes an eyesore. Many of the interiors are shoddily
lit (intentional or unintentional, it doesn't work) and a few
of the shots look as if they don't have a focal point. Hawke keeps
most of the scenes short, though, so the film (mostly in the second
half) feels like it's steadily making progress.
The acting is fine throughout, with Leonard (whose character,
in effect, becomes the film's center) making the strongest impression,
playing a bit against type and his performance doesn't feel like
it belongs on the stage as in previous films. Almost like a character
in itself, the movie's superb score (composed by Jeff Tweedy of
the band Wilco) acts as a further unifying link. The film ties
together well and, in the end, Chelsea Walls felt deserving
of my viewing attention.
Hawke is in control of his characters
and the terrain they inhabit, but he doesn't do much to distinguish
himself as a storyteller. While Chelsea Walls is a challenge
to digest, Hawke, in a sense, has taken an easy way out for his
first film. He's assembled a group of solid, professional acting
friends (and spouse, in Thurman's case), given them mainly one-note
roles (which isn't to the film's detriment, since it's an ensemble
and they don't all play the same note), and doesn't tap into material
that would force him to apply himself as an orator. Perhaps this
is a natural starting point for Hawke the director, although this
work doesn't give any clear indication of where this road will
take him. And, to be quite frank, such ambiguity really doesn't
lend itself well to this filmmaker.
Agree? Disagree? Talk about it in the forums.
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