DOUCHEBAG
Directed by Drake Doremus
Produced by Doremus, Jonathan Schwartz & Marius Markevicius
Written by Lindsay Stidham, Doremus, Jonathan Schwartz & Andrew Dickler
Released by Paladin
USA. 81 min. Not Rated
With Andrew Dickler, Ben York Jones, Marguerite Moreau, Amy Ferguson, Nicole Vicius & Wendi McLendon-Covey
 

Here’s an example of great low-concept filmmaking that probably won’t top any best-of 10 lists this year but is clearly ahead of so many others of its ilk. With the exception of the title, of course. The word is actually one of the less vulgar terms you could call someone, but, really, that’s what the filmmakers are going with? Sam (Andrew Dickler, also one of the writers) is tricked by his soon-to-be-wife Steph (Marguerite Moreau) into reconciling with younger brother Tom (Ben York Jones), and the brothers embark on a fateful last-ditch road trip with illuminating results. Which one’s the douchebag, then? Just wait.

After recent failed post-mumblecore experiments like Cyrus or The Freebie, Douchebag is one that might restore confidence in filmmaking that values truth over spectacle, seeking as direct a connection with the viewer as possible. Dickler and Jones may be disarmingly funny-looking lead men (sporting unkempt beards and plagued with bad skin), but they are both excellent actors and work nicely with an obviously patient and discerning director, Drake Doremus. The three explore the risky area between script and improvisation, eventually creating characters that are wholly indistinguishable from the actors playing them. When this type of direct cinema is done well, it readies us to believe the real existence of the situations and spaces, and likewise the people. Here, when the cleverly scripted bits of information begin to seep out, we never once disbelieve it, and it’s quite enjoyable. You’ll find yourself saying, “I should have known that about him from the beginning!”

Older brother Sam is an aggressive gardener, bicyclist, and vegetarian. The younger Tom is misanthropic, clinging to a less-than-lucrative career as a painter and still living with his parents. Sam’s lifestyle and his treatment of Tom is a satire of an increasingly common and condescending, if not outright hypocritical, attitude. The details of Sam’s and Tom’s respective lives—organic home cooked dinners, misunderstood abstract painting—feel pertinent, but more than that they create a dynamic that’s as old as storytelling. Where Doremus succeeds the most is in creating this familiar sibling power struggle while keeping us interested in the currency of the material.

If it sounds like I’m just describing good drama, well then I suppose I am. To treat a film like this one as another installment of whatever new wave we’re cresting might be overthinking it. We can call it whatever we want. Hand-held video and weird-looking actors notwithstanding, we’re really just sitting down to a good story, well performed by two guys who really get the material and directed by a craftsman who understands that his technique is just one step in the storytelling process. You know, now that I think about it, I guess I don’t even mind calling it Douchebag. Michael Lee
October 1, 2010