Other People's Property

Two engaging comic dramas that have nothing to do with each other ...

DOOMSDAYS (B) - This debut feature strikes a confident balance between mopey and deadpan. Smart-alecky Dirty Fred (Justin Rice, "Mutual Appreciation") and morose pal Bruho (Leo Fitzpatrick) squat in empty vacation homes in upstate New York in late winter and early spring.

They pick up a dumpy kid named Jaidon (Brian Charles Johnson) along the way, and they school the little goofball in the art of usurping other people's houses -- how not to get caught, what to do if you get caught. Besides raiding the fridge, Bruho has a habit of taking a tire-iron to vehicles, his way of protesting the world's dependence on oil. His perpetually foul mood, though, signals a darker secret, which is artfully revealed near the end of the film.

Along comes a gal, Reyna (TV actress Laura Campbell), who falls for the glib and alcoholic/charming Fred. Once this foursome takes root, the film spends the second half of the film unpacking the nuances of their various relationships.

Nothing big happens. Nothing epically tragic is in store for them. The characters meander until they don't anymore.

The actors are all solid. Rice (from the band Bishop Allen) is slick as the Jason Schwartzman/Bill Murray ring leader. Fitzpatrick fumes at just the right temperature. Campbell handles the quirks of each of the boys. And newcomer Eddie Mullins knits it all together into a wonderfully quirky story.

A MASTER BUILDER (B) - Jonathan Demme does Ibsen, in a modern adaptation buoyed by a delightful cast.

Wallace Shawn glows as Halvord Solness, a renowned but loathsome architect who is introduced to us on his deathbed before being revitalized by a visit from 22-year-old Hilde (Lisa Joyce), a red-haired temptress. When we meet Halvord, he's on his apparent death bed, zoning in and out of consciousness as he handles visits from Knut and Ragnar Brovik, the father and son he has long worked with; Ragnar's fiancee Kaia, whom Halvord covets; Halvord's wife, Aline (Julie Hagerty), who has been brutalized by Halvord's philandering and a tragedy that involved their children; and by his doctor, who engages him in some philosophical parrying.

When Hilde shows up about a half hour in, Halvord snaps out of his tailspin in what Demme subtly shows to be a mere reverie. Hilde reminds Halvord that they met 10 years earlier, when she was a child and he made a pass at her.The interplay between Shawn and Joyce is sheer delight. Their scenes are boldly intimate, with the old man often just inches from her voluptuous lips. They and others have a way of cackling maniacally, pushing this into the realm of uneasy farce.

Not everything quite adds up here. Halvord is often reminded of his fear of heights, though Hilde champions him as a powerful figure who is still vigorous enough to hang the wreath at the top of the towers he builds (the traditional cherry on top). It's apparent throughout that much of this is really the final fevered fantasies of a dying man who fears the loss of power and the onrush of a younger generation.

Demme presents four half-hour acts, and his production occasionally sags on its way to an underwhelming, old-fashioned ending. You can see how Arthur Miller may have borrowed some ideas here and elevated them into a masterpiece.

Despite the film's flaws, Joyce is fun to watch, and Hagerty is haunting as the shell-shocked lady of the house. Shawn is brilliant in the lead role, and he makes the most of his scene with old pal Andre Gregory ("My Dinner With Andre") as the elder Brovik -- a reunion that in itself is almost worth the price of admission.