FALLING AWAKE
Directed by Agustin
Produced by Andrew Adelson
Written by Agustin, Michael Baez and Doug Klozzner, based on a story by Agustin
Released by IFC Films
USA. 110 min. Not Rated
With Andrew Cisneros, Jenna Dewan, Luis Jimenez, Gerald Bunsen, Will Ramirez, Nestor Serrano, Julie Carmen, Flaco Navaja, Nicholas Gonzalez, Michael Rivera, & J.D. Williams
 

Few inner-city movie clichés are left unused in Falling Awake, a warmed-over melodrama about a Latino teen’s struggle to escape a dead-end life in the Bronx. Saddled with uneven performances and a cringe-worthy script, the movie, helmed and co-written by a man named simply Agustin, seems to draw much of its inspiration from TV tropes rather than actual street experiences

Model-handsome Jay (Andrew Cisneros) holds the graveyard shift at a gas station when he’s not provoking turf wars with his homies against Harlem youths or doing favors for a menacing neighborhood thug. Jay’s aimless life annoys his dad, an uptight Old Country paterfamilias who wishes his son would follow him in the doorman trade.

But Jay’s real love is his guitar. Beneath the crust of tough-guy machismo, he’s a poet whose molten inner-life erupts in earnest singer-songwriter coffeehouse songs (really) that no one in the ’hood can truly appreciate. Least of all his brother, a disgruntled, beer-swilling ex-Marine kicked out of the service and Haunted by Something He Did over There. (Have no fear, all will be explained in a shockingly corny flashback-style sequence.)

Luckily, while busking in a park downtown, Jay meets-cute with Alessandra (Jenna Dewan), a middle-classy young woman who grows to believe in him and his music. Is this his ticket out of a life of service jobs and escalating street violence against the Harlem kids (led by J.D. Williams, sadly very far from his The Wire days)? Or will his loyalties to his foolhardy homeboys and their Boyz n the Hood destinies—and his fondness for a pair of stolen sneakers—keep them apart? Whatever. While Dewan and Cisneros are an attractive and possibly talented pair, their relationship means nothing, and for a presumably gritty movie, the filmmakers can’t even be bothered to give her the minimal trappings of social realism, such as naming her (presumably office) job or even clearly defining her age. (At one point, Jay gets carded and denied drinks at a bar Alessandra frequents—she doesn’t appear to react, but would a woman in New York City date a guy who wasn’t old enough to drink?)

Really, all the characters surrounding Jay are underwritten but overacted ciphers, and Jay himself is little better, if somewhat enlivened by Cisneros’s naturally charismatic screen presence. But few viewers will find that enough when most scenes are as subtle as a car bomb. After their first date, Jay tells Alessandra about a beautiful fountain transplanted to Manhattan from the Bronx because the inhabitants there vandalized it, not able to see the worth of such a rare artistic treasure. Get it? Brendon Nafziger
February 5, 2010