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STARTING OUT IN THE EVENING
Directed by Andrew Wagner.
Produced by Nancy Israel, Fred Parnes, Wagner, Gary Winick & Jake Abraham.
Written by Parnes & Wagner, based on the novel by Brian Morton. Director of photography, Harlan Bosmajian.
Edited by Gena Bleier.
Music by Adam Gorgoni.
Released by Roadside Attractions.
USA. 111 min. PG-13.
With Frank Langella, Lili Taylor, Lauren Ambrose & Adrian Lester.

Andrew Wagner’s Starting Out in the Evening is like an older man in a well-made suit – it possesses a quiet dignity and sense of decorum that make its scenes of literal nakedness and vulnerability all the more jarring. The same could also be said about main character Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella), widower and once-noted New York writer struggling to finish one last novel in the twilight of his life, even while his prior work slips into obscurity.

His stiff jaw, rigorous dress code, and reclusive existence in a dim Upper West Side apartment establish the perfect set-up for a thorough shake-up: the arrival of fiery, hyper-intellectual grad student Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose). She writhes into his life, convincing him that her master’s thesis on his work can renew interest in his four out-of-print books.

From the very beginning, there’s something unsettling about the redhead’s vivacious presence, and it isn’t just the gaping age difference. By gnawing at Leonard to recognize his dying legacy and to do something about it, she indirectly questions the very purpose of art for art’s sake. Why should Leonard go on writing if he’ll be forgotten shortly down the road? What shakes Leonard even more than her forwardness is her odd, pseudo-sexual come-ons. When Heather delicately and ritualistically smears jam on the man’s sullen face – a move that comes out of left field during a somber supper - she begins to chip away at his guarded composure, stripping his dignity, and rekindling his spirits at the same time. And while her actions are disconcerting, they hint at a bond more spiritual than sexual.

Like the director’s intimate documentary on his own family, The Talent Given Us, his follow-up and first feature film has a looseness and flow, thanks largely to his exemplary cast. Langella’s portrayal of the clash between Leonard’s hope and his fading health is especially powerful – both poignant and tender. The author’s 40-year-old daughter, Ariel, offers Lili Taylor her best role in years.

The strong, natural dialogue, and a consistent sense of personal style (the outfits are almost cartoonishly similar from one day to the next) give the film’s characters a palpable three-dimensionality, as if any one of them could be sitting behind you in the theater. Though that theater would probably be in New York, the appeal of this well-crafted drama extends far beyond uptown intellectuals and Big Apple aficionados. Somehow, I didn’t feel I was just watching articulate characters written into a low-budget drama but individuals surreptiously captured at a serendipitous crossroad of change and growth. Yana Litovsky
November 23, 2007