David O'ConnellLittle Deaths
November 1st 2010 04:10
An anthology film based in Melbourne, Little Deaths is the work of writer Giula Sandler. Consisting of a series of ten short films acting as absurdly funny – though mostly just absurd – variations on a theme of relationships, love and loss, all are linked by a recurring story of a morose young man (Abe Forsythe) working in a toll booth and the girl (Maia Thomas) in an adjacent booth who tries to earn his attention.
Prior to each short tale - all helmed by different directors - we see the characters passing through the toll, barely noticed by the sullen young man, though apparently he randomly assigns them various attributes, concocting fictional scenarios about their lives to alleviate his profound boredom. So are the episodes that follow just creative elaborations of the inner lives attached to these fleeting faces?
Either way, most leave behind a bad taste, or worse, no impression at all. The best of them is the final story in which a woman (Magda Szubanski) is forced to the couch by her husband’s incessant snoring but is still unable to sleep. Manic bouts of cleaning and writing a novel on a label-maker follow before she falls for a buffed-up stud in a late-night infomercial. But even this amusing diversion is only moderately successful and there’s serious punishment to be endured before it mercifully arrives.
There’s a woman (Caroline Craig) whose preferred date and partner is her beloved vibrator; another woman (Natalie Carr), frustrated with the crossed signals of males, decides to put on a nightly show displaying her wares to a peeping tom (Ben Grant), only to set the story up for a bitterly ironic twist. Then there’s the couple inspired by elephants mating in a documentary who decide to film their own recreational activities but continually fuss over the aesthetic sensibilities of their performance art. Ironically, the man is played by future Animal Kingdom director David Michod; his girlfriend by Mirrah Foulkes.
Later, there’s the aimless pursuit of a young woman (Alex Schepisi) in Federation Square by a secret admirer via a constant stream of profusive texts. In yet another story, a grieving mother (Fiona Corke) returns to the scene of her son’s senseless automobile death, only to get it on with her son’s best friend’s goth brother (Brendan Carroll). Rightio then!
Dire music selections only enhance the film’s descending arc of quality, with the lame indie rock-song quotient pushed to a breaking point of tedious anonymity. Sadly, Little Deaths, informed by a quirkiness that falls flat - spectacularly so in a couple of instances - mostly lives up to its title with each minute misadventure posing little in the way of intrigue or compelling subject matter.
The acting is adequate at best, and the connective tissue of the toll booth story is never allowed to build any realistic momentum; not helping matters is the lackluster performance of Forsythe, though he's partially offset by Thomas who at least tries to inject a sense of empathy into her character’s demeanour. Finally, we're informed in the closing credits that the French translation of "little death" - "la petite morte" - is a kind of metaphor for orgasm over there. Maybe this will play to greater success in Paris.
Little Deaths will be screening exclusively in Melbourne at the Nova cinema from Thursday, November 4, with other states possibly to follow. You can view the film's trailer HERE.
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Comment by Matt Shea
Comment by David O'Connell
20/20 Filmsight
Screen Fanatic
Comment by ShaunK
Screen Adventure
there have been some good ones though, but they have always been ones that were made all by one person (Jarmusch's Cigarattes and Coffee not included)
Cheers