A friend of mine once described his dog walker (a middle-aged Brazilian woman who babbled aloud to herself with the utmost conviction) as âa real New York character.â Though a generous label, welcoming association with the great variety of gonzo behavior that youâre likely to find upon setting up camp in any of the five boroughs, it nonetheless ensures a vivid understanding of the general sort of kook youâre dealing with. Connected only by this distinctive weirdness that comes gratis with their shared geography are the players and premises of Person to Person. Weaving together four slice-of-life stories set in Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens, Dustin Guy Defaâs new feature at Sundance sets out to paint a loving picture of its focal cityâs je ne sais quoi.
Of course, this very same endeavor has proven the Big Apple quite the evasive muse for many the wide-eyed film school graduate. Person to Personâs photography alone may tell us why it succeeds where peers falter. Translating the aforementioned versatility in New Yorkâs class of oddballs to the visual, Defa and cinematographer Ashley Connor brilliantlyâand I mean that in more than one wayâpair each showcased story with a unique aesthetic scheme. Tavi Gevinsonâs ennui-stricken Upper East Side teen drifts through a world ranging from white to eggshell, while scruffy music dealer Bene Coopersmith lives in a veneer so rich and brown it practically dropped me back inside the velvet- and mahogany-based living room of grandfatherâs apartment in Flushing, Queens.
Accompanying the vibrancy of its look is that of its characters and stories, most of which seem to be buzzing around in a manner so aimless and chaotic as to practically demand comparison to real life. Thus, like reality, some of Person to Personâs vignettes are stronger than others. A plotline involving a depressed lay-aboutâs betrayal of an ex-girlfriendâs privacy, while handled with stymying bemusement by a dead-faced George Sample III, doesnât quite match the narrative drive of Abbi Jacobson and Michael Ceraâs adventure in ad-hoc investigative journalism. Neither of these packs the emotional punch of Gevinsonâs self-sabotaging devotion to her own misanthropic angst. And none of the lot can claim the comic magnitude of the best piece of the bunch: Coopersmithâs mission to acquire a suspicious Charlie Parker record⦠and, perhaps more importantly, an honest assessment of his new shirt.
Still, each has something to chew on, even if only the artistry in frowning that’s put on display by its central players. So committed to the look of the city as paramount to its character is Person to Person that it does marathon-grade work with the faces of its actorsâdue credit to champion frowners like Sample, Jacobson, Gevinson, Coopersmith, and reigning champ Philip Baker Hall. Armed with a gift for New Yorkâs default facial expression, each of the bunch communicates the inscrutable malaise that accompanies residential adherence to the beautiful, miserable city at the center of this piece.
Though youâd be a fool to try to nail down exactly what Person to Person is âabout,â none of its stories stray too far from the decisionâno, the compulsion–to be broken and alive here. The theme peers through in the yearning of Jacobson and Ceraâs Seattle and Cincinnati expats to keep up with the dangerous pulse of the city, in Gevinsonâs hyper-awareness of her native Manhattan toxicity, and in the very chromosomes of crazy-eyed Coopersmith. At one point manifesting as a homicidal caper and at another a nihilistic diatribe-laden character study, Person to Person is a lot like the New York character it celebrates: indefinable but unmistakable.
Rating: 4 out of 5
Images: Sundance Institute
Michael Arbeiter is the East Coast Editor of Nerdist. Find him on Twitter @MichaelArbeiter.