Foreign & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video ">
Reviews of Recent Independent, Foreign, & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video
PLEASE GIVE An opening montage of motley breasts plopping onto a mammogram machine isn’t just meant to get our attention. Cleverly, and with a touch of the squirm-factor, the sequence announces Please Give as a pointed, sometimes uncomfortable, and starkly human affair. New York City easily lends itself to director Nicole Holofcener’s (Friends with Money, Lovely & Amazing) understated approach to capturing reality. It doesn’t look grimy or glamorous, but so authentic that the New York viewer will wonder why he’s watching its streets on screen instead of loitering outside, spying on its inhabitants. Please Give is essentially a spy cam, reconstructing the life of Manhattanites with dead-on, almost unsettling accuracy.
Kate (Catherine Keener) and Alex (Oliver Platt) are your typical
well-off couple. They own a vintage furniture store, which they stock by
visiting the homes of the recently deceased and buying the goods at a
fraction of the resale price from grieving family members. Stuck
somewhere on the crossroads of the money-hungry American instinct and
conscientious liberal guilt, Kate tries to assuage her conscience by
giving alms to every vagrant, nut, and trannie on her path. Please Give isn’t rife with grand revelations about human nature but does a number on contemporary urban mores. When Kate tries to volunteer with the elderly or the mentally challenged, her patent sadness at their suffering almost disgusts the program managers, who shoo her away at the first sign of her tears. Kate’s melodramatic reaction to watching young adults with Down syndrome play basketball is certainly excessive, but our fear of acknowledging the difficulty of living with a disability may be equally absurd. The film peers through the blank stare of the woman on
the subway car on your morning commute and looks through the wall of the
adjacent apartment. The result is a messy, contradictory, and infinitely
entertaining image of what it means to be human. Yana Litovsky
|