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Reviews of Recent Independent, Foreign, & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video
THE BIG SHOT-CALLER If The Big Shot Caller were the final project of some fledgling film student, with no aspiration beyond the classroom or a relative’s praise, I would call it a sweet little film with surprising splashes of humor and heart. But as a film that edges out into the market, with the hope of selling tickets and enriching the lives of even a handful of unaffiliated moviegoers, it downright irks me to have watched it. The cookie-cutter inspirational tale awkwardly spun by director Marlene Rhein is a Petri dish of clichés. The barely modified formula for emotional makeover includes the usual suspects: a wretched protagonist with low self-esteem; unexpected life disruption; opportunity for change; and exalting personal victory in the final, painfully predictable minutes. The only variable is that salvation for said main character, Jamie Lesser, comes through salsa dancing, and that the booming voiceover narrative is mysteriously delivered in Spanish in a passionate voice, as though salsa itself were telling us Jamie’s tale. Jamie (played by the director’s brother, David Rhein) lives in a comatose daze. Pencil pushing from 9 to 5 and downing lonely beers till nightfall, Jamie lives in the middle of New York City as if in solitary confinement. An unsightly eye condition makes him look eternally doped up, besides dramatically impairing his vision. When an unexpected relationship with a Dominican vixen forces him out of his self-imposed seclusion, Jamie briefly wakes up. With some zeitgeisty charm, Jamie’s happiness is portrayed through his excitement over exchanging text messages with his honey. But the affair dissipates, and as Jamie unravels, he seeks comfort in the company of his estranged sister, Lianne, vigorously played by the director herself. A self-proclaimed house-dancing guru, Lianne is always busting a move or barraging her brother with her hip-hop philosophy—equal parts street smarts, attitude, and a penchant for God, or as she refers to Him, the “big shot-caller”. Though her character is ridiculous (intentionally, I hope), her special brand of moral support is what finally saves Jamie from his miserable existence. (As a boy, Jamie had dreamed of becoming a salsa dancer, a hope squashed by his berating father.)
A film like this—where
neither acting nor production quality add much value—relies
on quirk and character for any hope of success. Unfortunately, there is
very little of either. Still, sometimes, amid the insipid dialogue and
baffling interactions, a funny line floats to the surface. “I’m an
accountant, but I like Dave Chappelle,” Jamie admits—earning
himself and the movie a small dollop of charm.
Yana Litovsky
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