Stream J.J. Murphy’s Favorite Indie Films of 2013

This week on his blog, UW-Madison professor J.J. Murphy posted his list of favorite independent films of 2013. As he points out in his entry, many of the films played at the 2013 Wisconsin Film Festival, but Madison filmgoers would have had limited access to them outside of the festival. As part of our efforts to integrate Madison film culture with the digital domain, below I have posted links to Murphy’s entries on his favorites as well as links to streaming resources where you can catch up with them.

I used Netflix as the default resource when films are available from multiple resources. When films are only available as individual rentals, I provide a link to the least expensive option. For the films not currently streaming, I provide a link to their entry on GoWatchIt, where you can add them to a queue to be notified when they become available.

Quotes are excerpts from Murphy’s Best of 2013 blog entry or his individual film entries.

1.   Spring Breakers  (Harmony Korine)

Spring Breakers knocked my socks off. I love that the coeds drive all of 38 miles from Sarasota up (not down) to St. Pete. They claim to be in search of themselves and something different, yet they are already in a warm climate. Spring break turns out to be only more of the same, only on a grander scale. And James Franco, please give that man a statue. When he fixates on Selena Gomez, am I the only one who thought she cried real tears because she was having flashbacks?

2.  Frances Ha  (Noah Baumbach)

Frances Ha exudes a youthful spirit that brims with energy, so that, by the end, Baumbach’s film goes beyond being merely a portrait – it feels more like a valentine.

3.   Computer Chess  (Andrew Bujalski)

Computer Chess is wildly inventive, especially in how it cleverly connects the various plotlines that initially appear to be a series of tangents. Bujalski has always been a humorist. The early days of computing and a computer chess tournament provides him with a minefield of awkward social interactions, especially in the form of the film’s two young characters, Peter and Shelly. But, with Computer Chess, Bujalski has moved beyond naturalism into a kind of madcap surrealism that is closer in spirit to Miranda July than it is to Joe Swanberg.

4 .  The Unspeakable Act  (Dan Sallitt)

The mystery and surprise of The Unspeakable Act is how such a cerebral film can be so emotionally affecting. . . this low-budget indie gem deserves to be seen more widely. This impressive feature provides strong evidence that Dan Sallitt is one of the most under-appreciated major American indie writer/directors out there.

5.   Drinking Buddies  (Joe Swanberg)

There is unmistakable attraction and affection between Kate and Luke. The two feel enormously comfortable around each other, even physically, as they lie intertwined on the couch together. On some level, they’re very close, but what Swanberg seems to be suggesting in Drinking Buddies is that best buddies don’t necessarily make the best mates. As a result, there’s a sad undercurrent that runs throughout the film, which explores issues of friendship and romance, and the difference between casual crushes and actual commitments. Kate and Luke’s relationship seems to involve a series of missed connections. As it turns out, they might actually make better drinking buddies than lovers.

6.   Sun Don’t Shine  (Amy Seimetz)

Sun Don’t Shine recalls a number of other movies – from Barbara Loden’s Wanda (1970) and Terrence Malick’s Badlands (1973) to Kelly Reichardt’s River of Grass (1994), but it only resonates even more as a result of the references it conjures up for the viewer. With an economy of means, Seimetz is able to create a remarkable degree of suspense.

7.   Tiger Tale in Blue  (Frank V. Ross)

While showing similarities to films associated with mumblecore, [Frank V.] Ross’s work mines somewhat different territory. In contrast to fellow Chicagoan Joe Swanberg, for example, Ross carefully scripts his films, even though they might easily be mistaken for being improvised. If early mumblecore films dealt with the confusion of twentysomethings jumpstarting their adult lives, Ross’s characters seem to be a very different breed. They are less urban hipsters in a transitional stage of life than young, working-class suburbanites, who find themselves already trapped in humdrum lives and less than satisfying routines. They accept their fates with a certain resignation, yet feel stymied and unfulfilled as they struggle to make ends meet in a world of diminished prospects.

8.   Ain’t Them Bodies Saints  (David Lowery)

The film’s setup occurs so quickly that it’s hard to get one’s bearings. Lowery’s cutting is not only fast-paced, but the film is also shot in a highly elliptical style. The film’s emphasis is on individual shots rather than on sequence. There’s a minimum of dialogue. Events unfold through a series of stunning images, rich in texture and atmosphere, underscored by natural sounds and a heavy dose of mood music. Bradford Young, who won the best cinematography award at the Sundance Film Festival last January, often opts to shoot in low light. Scenes take place at magic hour or in a world of dark shadows. Lowery is less interested in having a tight plot – there are huge narrative gaps – than in creating a kind of filmic poetry.

9.   I Used to Be Darker  (Matt Porterfield)

In his previous films, [Matt] Porterfield mined cinematic realism through use of nonprofessional actors, improvisation, found locations, and long extended takes. There’s a great deal more cutting in I Used to Be Darker, despite his continued predilection for highly formal framings and a languid pace. Porterfield often keeps his camera at a distance from his characters, suggesting a more observational approach. There’s a scene early on where, in a wide shot, Bill takes a dip in the backyard pool. He slowly swims off-screen. The camera holds on the undulating water for several seconds until he comes back into the frame again. Much credit for the film’s visual strength is no doubt also due to Porterfield’s talented cinematographer, Jeremy Saulnier, who also shot Porterfield’s other two features.

10. All the Light in the Sky  (Joe Swanberg)

All the Light in the Sky is easily [Joe] Swanberg’s most thematically integrated film, yet it might also be his most effortless. The flow of conversations seems as natural as the tide we watch going in and out, or the subtle changes in the bright California sunlight that illuminates so many scenes. Swanberg’s film seems to go beyond simple naturalism by confusing the boundaries between the artifice of performance and real life. It involves a delicate sleight of hand that Swanberg has managed to pull off masterfully. Swanberg shot the film himself, which no doubt contributed to the intimate dynamics of the production.