By Chris Gonzalez
Bellflower is the cinematic discovery of my generation. It is a profoundly contemporary allegory that works on more levels than I can even put together, and that’s after two viewings. It is also a truly inspiring production for any young filmmaker, in the increasingly brutal arena of independent film financing and distribution.
This is a film from fresh talent that has latched onto my brain and won’t let go- dammit! It’s a movie you should know next to nothing about. If you have the will to see this without reading why you should, then hopefully you’ll come back to read this after you’ve seen it and we can talk. No big deal. But if you want to know why Bellflower is a revelation, then continue reading, but know I’m forced to get into some specifics. Ok, here goes.
In 1994, critics Siskel and Ebert compared Quentin Tarantino and Pulp Fiction to explosive new talent of the past, like with Spike Lee, Woody Allen, and Orson Welles. Tarantino, as we know, went on to make other great films. Personally, I can’t wait to see what the Coatwolf crew behind Bellflower does next, because with this feature debut, director/actor/writer Evan Glodell stands with the likes of P.T. Anderson, Darren Aronofsky, and David Fincher. That’s not to imply that Glodell is mimicking a former style or approach, but in that here are the beginnings of truly unique vision that is disarmingly contemporary, personal, relevant, poetic, and dangerously charged.
Bellflower is a state of mind. It’s the story of two aimless, sensitive, and audacious 20-something year old man-children that blow up propane tanks with sawed off shotguns and build flamethrowers in their ample spare time. They dream of imagined worlds populated by comic-book demons and heroes. It’s also an old-fashioned love story of boy-meets-girl. Woodrow, played by Glodell, and Milly have an adorable and disgusting ‘meet cute’ with an insect-eating contest. Woodrow wants to woo Milly and have a genuine relationship rather than the quick and easy fix of a hook up, which is the standard of modern courtship. When he gets her number outside of a bar, they are separated on the screen and juxtaposed by two randoms in the embrace of a drunken make out. The way that Milly and Woodrow flirt and connect, usually through the effervescent Milly forcing her personality on the shy Woodrow, is as convincing and involving as any great modern romance. It invests the viewer very quickly.
Woodrow’s brother in arms is Aiden, a bold and womanizing bro, who gets away with his cynicism and ego by virtue of his good looks and quick wit. Friends since childhood, they are a family unit of two, loyal and reliant on each other in the extreme. Their relationship is at once a completely convincing and hilarious document of true friendship, and a terrifying reflection of modern masculinity. There’s been a good amount of writing on how ‘manhood is in a state of crisis,’ and that is reflected in current media. Audiences love the man who can’t grow up. Gone are the Clark Gables and Jimmy Stewarts, here are the John C. Reillys and Seth Rogens. Woodrow and Aiden muse about how to they can assert themselves in a world on the brink of apocalypse, with the imagined Lord Humungous as their alter ego, and their tricked out, fire-breathing car, Medusa, as their inferno wagon. The film is filled with striking visuals. They also engage in naïve and childish conversation, binge drinking, and other acts that are endearing one second and disturbing at the drop of a dime. For example: we go along with Aiden’s drinking and doucheness, and even enjoy it. Then, in a mostly non-threatening manner he verbally molests a girl at a party. It’s a disgusting moment that changes our view of the character, making us reevaluate how we felt about his previous actions. The film’s demeanor is volatile, incorrigible and seeking an outlet for pent up, youthful aggression. They drink whiskey while driving, beer for breakfast, and blow shit up for the sake of being badass and the momentary thrill that it provides. But their acts are a product of the warped world they live in- our world- fueled by media infiltration and one that discourages sensitivity and encourages substance abuse, irony and the thrill of stupidity.
The notion of the apocalypse is ageless, and it’s a great cinematic theme that has been creatively mined for decades. In 2011, maybe more than ever, we’re asked to acknowledge it. However real and true a lot of the statistics are, we know that global warming is a threat, weapons of mass destruction are around, and we know there’s overpopulation. The threat of an apocalypse is central to how the characters and story move forward. The film isn’t trying to preach a solution about how we can save the world, just existing in a world needing saving.
All of this is constantly blended with a sensitivity to the characters that is exaggerated but still true. The mixture of extreme childishness and recklessness are constantly working in tandem towards its larger statement. There is no middle ground to the films point of view, even though it’s up for an infinite amount of interpretations. For example, we see Woodrow and Minny giggle as they read a steamy and pornographic paperback, to later see them engage in these sexual acts with all the violent fury that the seemingly innocent paperback held. These tonal notes are not an easy thing to dissect in writing, and I’m worried I’m not making a lick of sense. But the things I’m trying to write about are areas in which the film struck a very personal cord with me- being a 23-year old guy. This past Fourth of July me and two friends spent the day in sleeveless shirts with the American flag, drinking whiskey and beer, smoking cigarettes, and shooting light bulbs in our apartment with a BB gun. It was stupid and reckless and fun as fuck. I know that kind of makes me sound like an asshole, and I wouldn’t begrudge anyone of that, but I know I’m not alone in this feeling of enjoyment. Even if you haven’t done anything of this nature, most of us have witnessed visceral reactions to violent video games like “Call of Duty” or “Halo.” Whatever it means, it’s not as important as the sensation itself. Other friends of mine share it, and devil-may-care joy has been the topic of many narratives before this. In Bellflower, this theme is given a context that feels brand new through the realistic dialogue, hand crafted music, and gritty aesthetic that is slick and vintage. As if we’re constantly nostalgic for something we were never a part of, vintage is the standard of cool for our generation. Beyond the film theory, the script and acting make you care about the four principal characters very quickly, so that when things take a tire-screeching turn for the worst, you’re fully invested.
What transpires in the second half is a fever dream ‘mind fuck’ of violence, betrayal, melodrama and lunacy that completely works and makes the movie operate on new levels, with an assured intensity that is unpredictable and confounds your expectations to sustain vitality and defy classification. Like Kevin Smith did with Clerks, Tarantino did with Pulp Fiction, or Scorsese with Taxi Driver, Bellflower feels like a new piece of evolved cinema. Bearing flaws and all, it’s a game changer. While putting up a mirror to our generation it simultaneously glorifies our energy, potential and sociability but haunts and disturbs as we see unsure individuals in a chaotic world that act out in reckless and immature ways. It’s an adrenaline shot to the heart, and will wrap itself around your thoughts like any film that has ever had that effect. This is a seminal moment in modern art.
THE STATE OF THE MOVIE INDUSTRY AND YOUR STAKE IN IT
Whether you’ve read or talked about it, Hollywood is in a bit of a crisis right now. You’ve experienced it. If you look at the highest grossing movies of the year so far, you see evidence of a trend that is gaining momentum. Of the top 10, only 1 is not a sequel or reboot or franchise starter. As the film industry grows, studios look for clearer ways to make massive amounts of profit, and that is through releasing films that are more properties than stand alone movies. They have potential to generate multiple streams of revenue, and a rehashed idea with international appeal is a safer and easier bet than something unknown and original. You also have studios throwing egregious amounts of money into a film, hoping that every one will be a massive tent pole and gross $500 million worldwide. It’s a cynical business model because it asks for more formula than ever before, and less from the audience’s intellect.
Independent films don’t do breakout business, because they are movies that need to be nurtured and slowly spread through moviegoers so they have time to catch momentum. Nearly all of the major studios have abandoned their independent film distribution arms, and the excessively expensive cost of movie tickets as of late is keeping a lot of young people away from the multiplex. Attendance at theaters is decreasing, but prices have increased, so you still see many movies that make a boatload of cash. Theaters also have Netflix and other online streaming to battle, including illegal downloading. All of this presents a lot of problems with no easy answers. The industry is freighted to take risks. Guys, we have a release date set for the second Spiderman movie, from the second set of Spiderman films. And that is a year before the public decides if it wants another.
Bellflower was made for $17,000, of which half went into creating its strongest symbol, Medusa: a fire-spitting custom built ’72 Buick Skylark. They also built their cameras (!). It gained traction at both Sundance Film Festival and South By Southwest, and independent film studio Oscilloscope (Exit Through the Gift Shop) picked it up for distribution. This is the best-case scenario for an independent film, and this production should provide incredible inspiration for any aspiring filmmaker. But its notoriety also requires a very critical component: word of mouth and getting asses in the seats. If you care about films at all, this should be the moment where you feel called to action instead of apathetic. If you are frustrated with the multiplex offerings, look at smaller theater chains, go to them, and spread the word. There are several fantastic options out right now that you may have never heard of because they don’t have the marketing budget to be a branded assault. They’re there waiting for you, and deserve your patronage. Bellflower is the one you’ve been waiting for. Trailer and link to release schedule in the post below.
