Pretentious is a word thrown around quite a bit in the film industry, a label often carelessly slapped on any minor indie drama that boldly rejects the rigid conventions of storytelling in favor of a fresh and unique perspective. Little Men, the story of a feud between two families and how that conflict came to affect their children’s friendship, in no way embodies such a damning term. One could very well argue that the film, co-written and directed by critical darling Ira Sachs (Love is Strange, Keep the Lights On), is so utterly bland, empty-headed and at times downright incoherent, that the only possible description that could begin to encompass its at-times impressive level of stupidity would be thoughtless, aggressively unironic indifference.
The screenplay, co-penned by Sachs and Mauricio Zacharias, is nothing short of a disaster in terms of its ability to evoke any emotion whatsoever from the viewer — be it anger, sentimentality, joy, sadness, etcetera. Rather than sticking to the tried and true five-part method of the dramatic arc — exposition, rising action, climax, falling action and resolution — the film instead elects to skip the middle three, simply mentioning a conflict in dialogue then resolving it just as quickly with one generic monologue after another. Furthering their undying cause to bore all those who watch into a deep coma, the two writers seemingly have no interest whatsoever in committing their characters to any distinct personality type. There’s the boring dad, who is kind of a financial and career disappointment and grieves just a bit over the loss of his father (which occurs in the film’s opening moments); the cardboard mom, who may or may not really be discontent with the fact that she is the family’s sole breadwinner; the kid who sort of likes art, kind of likes his friend and spends the entire film either nodding unsurely or saying “I dunno” monotonously; the kid’s friend, who suffers from mild ADHD and is generally a little less respectful toward figures of authority; and his mom, the shop owner who complains about being evicted by the other family but ultimately goes to no lengths to stop it from happening. This clear hesitance to commit to a definitive perspective also extends to the the entire cast, many of whom are remarkably talented and have taken lead roles in far superior films, as their performances are riddled with hesitance and an inability to confidently display any level of raw emotion.
Had I no context for the movie going into the theater, it would have been easy to draw a conclusion in regards to the crew: a first-time director out of film school lacking a distinct style or basic human skills, a production and editing crew with similar levels of inexperience, and a writer who had no creative control past his initial screenplay. The directing, while not inherently off-putting, was made up mostly of static medium shots and perfectly placed camera angles, lacking any natural human touch. Furthermore, Sachs approached every scene with an uncomfortable level of extreme seriousness that bordered on hilarity, the film equivalent of a four-year old child attempting an in-depth discussion as to why elephants are not purple. He completely lacks any sense of self-awareness or deprecation, unflinchingly presenting his subject as if its importance rivals that of world hunger. As for the editing, it was ‘meh’ at best and noticeably bad at worst, lending the movie a very awkward and socially inept feel. Several scenes run well over a minute longer than is appropriate, and outside of one oft-used repetitive tune seemingly pulled straight from an ‘Inspiring Instrumentals’ playlist on Spotify, the vast majority of the film lacked any background music necessary to setting a consistent tone. The fact that this crew is not only filled with several Hollywood vets, but that much of them worked together on Sach’s previous film Love is Strange (2014) is not merely surprising — it’s absolutely shocking. Not one of the departments, be it producing, editing, music, writing, or directing, seem to be working toward a common goal of creating a coherent and presentable motion picture.
Among the vast array of positive critical reviews to Little Men, a word that has been commonly brought up is “humane,” and that is perhaps the most nonsensical thing about this nonsensical movie: it was the literal opposite of human. Each bit of characterization and line of dialogue came across as shallow and generic, every plot choice was approached with indecisiveness and reluctance, and the finished product was so bland, so deprived of style and boldness, that it may as well have been computer generated. But I guess it goes to show that if you write a screenplay, claim it to be an indie drama, get a few recognizable names on board, shove in some pseudo-inspiring music, and tell everyone that the point of it is that it has no point, you may just have a critical hit on your hands.
Guess I’m moving to Hollywood.
One half stars (out of five).
