In which we go back toward the beginning to reconsider the origins of the Mumblecore movement, which marks the transition from Generation X to Millennials, riffing on their parents' Cassavettes. We start with two collaborations between Greta Gerwig and Joe Swanberg.
HANNAH TAKES THE STAIRS (2007) (A-minus) - I'll never understand the title, but I'll never forget my introduction to Greta Gerwig, who, in her early 20s, stars as Hannah, an impatient woman seeking a footing for a career as a writer and cycling through men who don't have the substance to match her desires.
This project is an Origin Story of sorts for the genre -- Joe Swanberg was the prolific hit-and-miss writer-director of that era; Gerwig would be the It Girl and would go on to co-direct with Swanberg (see below); Andrew Bujalski, a co-worker and love interest here, started this whole movement in 2002 with "Funny Ha-Ha"; and Mark Duplass, coming off "The Puffy Chair" (2005), co-stars as Hannah's manchild boyfriend Mike, who has quit his job without a Plan B, sparking Hannah's first relationship crisis.
Hannah has a chronic dissatisfaction that is rooted in her ambitions. She is interning at a production company in Chicago, and her two main co-workers -- Bujalski's Paul and Kent Osborne as Matt -- are lazy writers who goof off at work and awkwardly try to flirt with Hannah. She quickly dumps the unemployed Mike and takes up with Paul, an annoying nerd. It won't take long for her to tire of his wishy-washy antics. Soon Matt starts vying for her attention, and they have a cute connection when they discover that they both can play the trumpet.
"Hannah" captures that wonderful confusing time after college when you are technically an adult but you are more play-acting at the role than actually fully adulting. Hannah and her roommate, Rocco (a sly Ry Russo-Young), are hipster gals navigating Guyville -- smart, attractive but also nerdy. They are at that new-adult stage of eating out of orange plastic bowls and conveying clear-out signals when there is a potential for the other to have a makeout session.
The dialogue is breezy and mostly improvised. Swanberg has a cast that trusts each other, and they apparently trust him to mold these shaggy scenes into a cohesive movie, which he does well. Gerwig truly is a revelation. Her magnetism grabs your attention and dares you to ignore her. In one pivotal scene, Hannah deals with stress during a spat by grabbing an ice cube and crunching into it, a deadpan look on her face, creating yet another curious quirk of character. She is unpredictable and operating on a level or two above the others, who only occasionally rise to the challenge. Osborne is the best match for her improv skills, as Matt is the one who is the most flexible and the one most willing to patiently learn who Hannah truly is. (Gerwig and Osborne get co-writing credits with Swanberg.) Bujalski, true to the genre he birthed, mumbles quite a bit, and you might be well served by engaging the subtitles in order to catch every whimsical bon mot from the cast.
Gerwig is more than your run-of-the-mill manic pixie dream girl here, despite her peroxided pixie haircut. You can feel the waves of potential emanating from her. You can maybe even sense, in retrospect, that she would not be content to play the girlfriend in some guy's little indie films. Like Duplass, she had filmmaking skills and charisma to burn. It's not surprising that they carried the Mumblecore ethos into the mainstream in their own unique ways.
NIGHTS AND WEEKENDS (2008) (B+) - Going into this exercise, I remembered "Nights and Weekends" as superior to "Hannah Takes the Stairs." Not this time. Swap Gerwig's parade of love interests in "Hannah" with a whole lot of Joe Swanberg as her partner, and that's a lot of Joe to put up with. (He is like a poor man's Channing Tatum here.)
I wonder what Gerwig makes of these early films in her career. In both of these movies, which were released in succession, she is liberally naked. The nudity seems quite natural, but can it be considered excessive or exploitive in retrospect? That's not for me to judge. She is doing quality work here; but is she merely appeasing Swanberg and the boys to a certain extent?
The hook here is that Gerwig's Mattie and Swanberg's James are trying to make a long-distance relationship work, shuttling between Chicago and New York every few months. Their frustrations boil over in often passive-aggressive ways. Neither one can ever quite do the right thing in a given situation.
Gerwig has a natural awkwardness and vocal stammer that calls to mind the 1970s films of Woody Allen. She unleashes very real emotions at a moment's notice and she has a playful way of expressing her feelings. Mattie is frustrated by the era's blurring of irony versus sincerity. When James tries to make the best of a situation by acting goofy, Mattie is outraged; she scolds: "I don't respond to sarcastic fun!" All of this nuance takes place despite the fact that Swanberg is a bit of a cipher opposite her. (There is a reason that most of his quality work was behind the camera.)
You can watch the one-minute trailer and find five reasons to want to watch Gerwig in this film. One scene in particular cements her status as a major talent. Mattie is at a restaurant table, waiting for James, who can be seen in background, outside, making a phone call. She self-consciously primps her hair and touches up her lip gloss, like women used to do in movies. But she's also cycling through a stormfront of micro-emotions. There are so many things happening in that single moment, all captured in her eyes and her fidgety mannerisms.
You could build a whole movie around that acting exercise. Considering that this is the naissance of a cinematic movement, maybe that's just what these adventurous filmmakers did.
BONUS TRACKS
The trailers:
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