Review: One Night Only
Some Beasts | Cameron Bruce Nelson | USA | 2015 | 90 minutes
Micro-Wave Cinema Series, 4070 Vilas Hall, Sunday, February 21, 7:00pm»
James Kreul argues that, despite some missteps, the elliptical narration and minimalist performances in Cameron Bruce Nelson’s Some Beasts provide an emotionally rich portrait of a man in conflict about his choice to live off the land in rural Appalachia.
The story of Some Beasts is very easy to describe. The plot of Some Beasts and the experience of watching it are not as easy to describe, due to elliptical storytelling strategies utilized by writer/director Cameron Bruce Nelson. Sometimes this complexity undermines the narrative momentum of the film, and presents obstacles to our emotional response to what we see and understand. But for the most part, thanks to a strong central performance by Frank Mosely, our efforts to assemble the story from the plot elements presented to us are rewarded and Some Beasts slowly evolves into an emotionally satisfying portrait of a man conflicted about the solitary rural life that he has chosen for himself.
Mosely plays Sal, who has drifted into a remote farming community where he lives in his own shack and supports himself working his own land and assisting on adjacent farms. We soon discover, through phone calls and a now-antiquated answering machine, that Sal has a long-distance girlfriend, Rene (Heather Kafka). A significant part of the first act is devoted to a visit from Rene and her young daughter from a previous relationship. Many details in the first act are presented somewhat cryptically, including a fleeting appearance by a mysterious young boy, only to be explained much later. In most cases the gap between appearance and explanation is short and easily managed. In other cases, the gap is more significant, or the payoff might not be proportional to the effort.
Despite a seemingly episodic and observational style, Some Beasts does fit relatively neatly into three 30 minute acts. Unlike conventional screenplays, however, those acts are not marked by decisive decisions or actions made by Sal. Instead, things happen to Sal. Or, perhaps more accurately, things creep into Sal’s isolated life and he has to choose to respond or not respond. Within the acts, Sal makes some pretty important decisions not to act, or to avoid contacting authorities whom most of us would call in the same situation. Those moments of decision are not always presented on screen; instead we often just see or hear the consequences of his decisions. While an interesting narrative strategy, this avoidance of conflict sometimes undercuts the drama.
Given these narrative techniques, however, Mosely and Nelson have chosen an effective performance strategy for Sal. With a tip of their cap to Robert Bresson, Mosely and Nelson present Sal as nearly affectless. It’s quite striking in the publicity materials for Some Beasts how many images feature Sal with a seemingly blank look, even looking down or off in the distance. This strategy leans heavily on what E.H. Gombrich calls the “beholder’s share,” or the work that the viewer must do to complete the emotional picture. Several relatively mundane moments have emotional complexity when one begins to contemplate what is going on in Sal’s head.
The paucity of narrative details and dialogue also means that the few details and lines that are delivered carry more weight. When Sal and Rene intimately share their hopes and aspirations for their future together on the land, Sal makes it clear that one reason he is on the land is because it would be a good place to raise a family. But he says one thing to Rene that not only reveals his own conflicted feelings about that goal, but also a major obstacle to their possible future together. He doesn’t seem to realize the significance of what he has said, but we immediately do understand. These moments carry a significant emotional punch when Mosely and Nelson land them successfully.
There are a few missteps with this minimalist strategy, however. One of Sal’s few overt emotional outbursts comes as he listens to an answering machine message late in the film. It took a second listen for me to hear what was actually said on the message (I even put headphones on). The problem is less technical and more conceptual. The conceptual distance between the dots here is too far to connect them efficiently. We don’t need to have the dots connected for us, but we do need to see and hear the dots to connect them ourselves. Even if we hear the answering machine clearly, the emotional impact is muted.
When Sal discovers that a member of the community whom he provided assistance to has died, we have a long time to contemplate Sal’s response as he prepares the man’s coffin and repairs a chair from his house. Despite his relationship with Rene being in jeopardy at the end of the first act, Sal’s quiet response to the man’s death becomes a key emotional point of the second act. In many ways this plot thread is more interesting than Sal’s relationship with Rene, because Sal’s reaction to the man’s death manifests itself visually instead of through dialogue.
Sal finds the man’s address book and reaches out to his family. The man’s niece, Anna (Lindsay Burdge), arrives to take care of what is left of his estate. But the third act is more clearly marked by the reintroduction of the mysterious boy from the first act, Tre (Andre Shannon), who has been living on his own in the woods. In Anna, Sal meets a woman who has an understanding of the land and might better understand his desire to live on it. But just as the old man reminded Sal of the dangers of isolation on the land, young Tre reminds Sal of the dangers inherent in immersing yourself in nature. The conditions are set for Sal to make a decision about his life on the land.
Some Beasts is very well shot (by HutcH) and it is hard to take a bad shot in such a gorgeous setting. Nelson, with his background in anthropology and ethnographic documentary, provides the film with a leisurely pace that allows us to observe rural life details. Many of the more intriguing moments of the film have very little to do with the main plot threads outlined above. Nelson draws on his previous experience as a homesteader in Virginia, and integrates non-professional actors from Appalachia to create a very vivid portrait of current manifestations of a lifestyle not often captured in feature films.
But ultimately the film works or doesn’t work depending on your reaction to Frank Mosely’s performance as Sal. I found Mosely very engaging as Sal, who becomes a guide to a culture we might not be familiar with as well as someone we can identify with as he makes some significant life changing decisions. But you shouldn’t expect Mosely or Nelson to do all of the work for you. Your overall emotional engagement will depend on how much of the beholder’s share you’re willing to bring to the experience.