some girl(s)
Some Girl(s)
Neil LaBute may be the bravest writer currently working in motion pictures because he writes male characters who are undeniably loathsome.
Conceited, narcissistic, sexually self-absorbed and dismissive of the female species, these men aren’t just the opposite of the generic hero — they feel like something teased out under hypnosis.
Certainly, no one would consciously admit to being as egotistical as the unnamed “Man” (Adam Brody) who embodies the central character in Some Girl(s). Not even “Man.” In fact, our de facto protagonist thinks he’s a pretty sensitive and liberated guy, which is the reason why he’s decided to retrace his sexual history and revisit the handful of women who really “played a pivotal role” in the person he became.
Like a novice 12-stepper making a list of every wrong turn and hurt feeling, “Man” wants to make amends and psychically repair the damage done before he ties the knot with the person he considers his true love.
He begins with his highschool girlfriend, a woman who is now married but still carries a grudge against her old beau for taking another girl to prom without telling her.
These things happen, he tells her. “We were just kids. What did I know? I am so sorry!”
At this point, we have to agree with him. We all make mistakes, and screwing up is the point of being young, because it tends to make us better people. Besides, high school is full of endless drama that starts to look smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror of time.
yet, the tenor of this dramatic comedy shifts by the third visit, when he faces an ex from an illicit affair (Emily Watson). She’s really angry, but she tolerates his presence and decides to seduce him so he can feel the weight of the lie he will be forced to live with for the rest of life, just like she did.
At this point, our feelings about our nameless hero are a little shaky, despite his obvious charm and intelligence. We’re also beginning to question his motivation: Is he really trying to make amends or is he using these women for his own ends — yet again?
Brody has such natural charisma that we give his character the benefit of the doubt until he visits his friend’s little sister (Zoe Kazan), and we hear what this seemingly benign, welleducated and wholesome boy did to her on her 12th birthday.
He pulls out his now-familiar line: “We were just kids. What did I know? I am so sorry!”
What makes the movie so emotionally brutal is that he really means it, and in the end this movie is more a study of wilful obliviousness than it is the chronicle of a true cad.
LaBute’s script — based on his stage play and directed here by daisy von Scherler Mayer — pulls us into each dramatic eddy through the sexy conflict and a chatty, intellectual dynamic. The piece often feels a little stagy, since its driven by character-based dialogue, but it’s the emotional debris lurking beneath the surface that gives this modern love story its bite.
LaBute is brave enough to create big holes and silences, and in the process we become acutely aware of all the things that aren’t being articulated, whether it’s pure contempt or true despair. even when each woman does her best to spell out exactly how she feels wronged and why, he still can’t see it.
These are subtle, but inspired, scenes because von Scherler Mayer takes LaBute’s scenarios and lets them writhe around in front of the camera like a newly hatched alien — all wet, full of teeth and eager to stick to the softest, most vulnerable parts of the viewer.
Brody is nothing short of brilliant as he lets little pieces of character shatter before our eyes — without actually taking any responsibility for his actions. It’s a believable jig because he says things that real people say: “I’m not a bad person. I always had good intentions. you can’t blame me for being immature. I want to make it up to you ... Please accept my sincerest apologies.” Blah, blah, blah. each woman listens and nods, then throws every syllable back in his face — to no avail.
It’s not until he reconnects with Bobbi, the woman he “really loved” and mistakenly let go, that we begin to see a shred of genuine regret.
Played with kind intensity by Kristen Bell, Bobbi hears “Man” out. Like the others, she nods politely at his quest to reconnect with old exes and make amends. And like the others, she tells him exactly how she was damaged. yet, because this is the only woman he genuinely cared about, and continues to care about, the last layer of paint peels off our nameless hero’s whitewashed walls, and what we see isn’t just depressing — it’s bereft of real feeling.
“Man” would seem to be a perfect sociopath, but he’s not even that special. He’s just a garden variety tool who’s so consumed with his own happiness that he can’t process other people’s pain, let alone take any responsibility for it. Men like “Man” are recognizably real, but we rarely see them on the big screen — which explains why this movie isn’t getting a theatrical release, but instead going straight to video-on-demand.
Studios and distributors obviously think we can’t handle the truth, but even if it’s static and a little stagy, Some Girl(s) proves the truth isn’t just cathartic — it’s worth trying. ∂ΔΠ