HUMBOLDT COUNTY
Written & Directed by Danny Jacobs & Darren Grodsky
Produced by Jason Weiss
Released by Magnolia Pictures
USA. 97 min. Not Rated
With Jeremy Strong, Chris Messina, Frances Conroy, Brad Dourif, Fairuza Balk, Peter Bogdanovich & Madison Davenport

With Humboldt County, first-time directors Danny Jacobs and Darren Grodsky bring to the screen the storied area of Northern California known nationally for its top tier marijuana and cheese. While Humboldt Fog, a goat’s milk cheese beloved by many, is absent from this film, marijuana is most certainly not.

Peter, a failing UCLA med student, returns to consciousness one morning in a truck heading north—far north. At the wheel is Bogart (Fairuza Balk), a jazz-singing pixie and his drunken one-night stand from the previous evening. They arrive at the home of the family of her quasi-boyfriend Max (Chris Messina) in Humboldt, then Bogart mysteriously vanishes the next morning (maybe for a day or maybe, as her young daughter somewhat disturbingly suggests, ten years). Peter quickly realizes that he’s not in Westwood anymore. The most used utensil at his new hosts’ dinner table is a bong, passed around liberally amongst talk of cultivating Mars with human manure and abolishing leashes for dogs.

After missing the southbound bus several times (first-time marijuana use partially to blame, the general laziness of his hosts, and a developing fondness for his new quarters also taking responsibility), Peter becomes involved with the family. He helps Max tend to his crop and listens on with eager ears as Max’s mother Rosie (an unusually bubbly Frances Conroy) and stepfather Jack (Brad Dourif) rehash their life stories over overstuffed joints and venison.

Humboldt County, a low-budget, character-driven indie, goes limp—it doesn’t deliver any compelling characters. Stepping into a reportedly “deliberately underwritten” role (according to the directors), Jeremy Strong, an accomplished stage actor making his feature film debut, invests Peter with all the life of a robot with chronic fatigue syndrome. Peter, coming to terms with what he wants to do (or doesn’t want to do) with his life, never earns our empathy. Not because his journey isn’t a relatable one, sensitive to a yuppie demographic, but because he never seems like anything more than a filmmaker’s puppet.

Frances Conroy gives all she’s got, but it’s not enough. Humboldt County forces her through one of the most self-indulgent monologues in recent memory, the sort you’d expect from a first-time playwright. Chris Messina’s Max, filled with jealousy and self-loathing, gives the most promising performance. But why does he have to bang on scrap metal all the time? And poor, droopy dog Peter Bogdanovich as Peter’s domineering father. Stay for the credits and watch him eat a sandwich in one uninterrupted take.

This self-consciously retro movie (its opening title sequence comes complete with a seventies-era © symbol) compellingly portrays one character: its namesake. Lushly shot on location, Humboldt County is at times breathtaking in its scenery. Ernest Holtzman’s camerawork, more concerned with capturing the essence of the moment than keeping sharp focus, creates an atmosphere that deserves a much more interesting population. Patrick Wood
October 3, 2008