TINY FURNITURE
Written & Directed by Lena Dunham
Produced by Kyle Martin & Alicia Van Couvering
Released by IFC Films
USA. 98 min. Not Rated
With Lena Dunham, Laurie Simmons, Grace Dunham, Rachel Howe, Merritt Wever, Amy Seimetz, Alex Karpovsky, Jemima Kirke & David Call
 

I often wrestle with this kind of “throw out the book” drama, wondering whether it’s something meticulous and complex, perhaps even out of my reach. Hal Hartley, for instance, used to impress me with his caricatures of the most unique and normal people (Henry Fool, Trust’s Maria Coughlin). There’s an echo of Hartley in Tiny Furniture. But don’t they say you need to know the book before you throw it out? Either way, I just find myself not getting this film. I was forced to assume a lot of what was really going on in the characters’ heads, and, most importantly, in the head of the writer, director, and star Lena Dunham, because the vital information never actually comes to fruition.

Look, I know. What’s not to get? It’s a “goes-around film,” in which the words “goes around” must be employed in the summary. It’s a story that has a circle rather than an arc: circumstances change, but the results are the same. Think Fellini’s 8½ or Gus Van Sant’s Elephant. This one is somewhere in between. Uniquely normal, upper-middle-class Aura (Dunham) goes around dealing with her offbeat family, insufferable Manhattanite friends, and scumbag hipster men. As a recent college grad, her world is mostly limited to looking for a job and trying to get laid, and when she finally accomplishes these things, the film ends. Aura, as a quirky arty chick, is interesting—unique, even, in her dry humor, her offbeat interests, and remarkable lack of self-consciousness regarding her weight—yet everything about the story tells us that she’s supposed to be the normal one. It’s tough to be special in a world full of crazies.

Like Hartley’s work, the story is interesting when it pushes the range of credibility but keeps us coming back for more. Dunham no doubt challenges our notions of how ridiculous some people can be (Aura’s mother, played by the director’s mother, Laurie Simmons, keeps telling Aura to look in the white cabinet for various items, though every last one of the countless cabinets in her post-modern Tribeca loft is stark white), and it only seldom feels like a contrivance. We may not quite understand these folks, but we buy that they might exist. Keeping in mind that this film was directed by a then-23-year-old, the jury is still out for me on how much of this dramatic subtlety was actually deliberate.

This film is not very deep, and it’s not supposed to be. Defenders will likely point out that it’s a comedy, and it’s all supposed to be funny, but this would be holding it to a standard too low for my taste. A complete film should work on more levels than just humor, and because this one continuously points out the absurdities in our everyday relationships, I’m left wishing Dunham could have given us a little more insight as to why her characters behave the way they do. Not to mention, Aura’s dry humor is actually not as funny as I’d hoped. This kind of bright effort from such a young filmmaker, though, can only mean better things are on the horizon. Michael Lee
November 12, 2010