 |
 |
|
|
 |
 |
EMO PILL
Produced by Benjamin P. Ablao, Jr., and Anthony Spadaccini
Directed, Written, and Edited by Anthony Spadaccini
Director of Photography - Jeff JankowskiMiles Nelson - Timothy Farmer
The Divine Providence - Steve Brown
Jack Nelson - John Larsen
Karen - Denise Smiley
Oliver - Anthony SpadacciniI had an outside reviewer handle this site's first review of Anthony Spadaccini's work, and I wish I hadn't. It's possible that I would have been able to appreciate THE FIRST DATE more than just for its appeal as a silent era homage. I like THE FIRST DATE more and more as I reflect back on it, especially now having watched EMO PILL. That earlier film clearly established what Spadaccini is trying to do in the realm of purely visual storytelling, or "pure cinema" as I like to call it.
The ability to tell a purely visual story isn't an easy one. A filmmaker can't rely on the crutch that vocal exposition allows. Every idea, plot point, and mood must be conveyed solely through moving images. At times THE FIRST DATE did feel a little gimmicky, but it allowed for Spadaccini to move into the more personal EMO PILL, another silent effort. Unlike THE FIRST DATE, there are no title cards or mugging for the camera, just strong visuals blending cinema verite with expressionism to create something exciting and new.
Miles is a drug addict wallowing in a quagmire of depression and self-loathing. When we first meet him, he's wrestling with the notion of putting a knife to his wrist. Is it because of the cocaine that we see being cut into lines? Is it because of his father who appears as little more than a disenchanted couch potatoe. Or perhaps it's the drug-pushing being handed down by his dealer brother ( played by Spadaccini himself, whose uncanny resemblence to LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT's David Hess adds an extra layer of menace). I'd say it's all three.
Miles wanders through his days oblivious to anything other then his own pathetic existence. Usually, this is the sort of filmmaking I can't stand as it would come across as little more than padding. But thanks to Jeff Jankowski's amazing cinematography, it's as if Miles is oblivious to the beautiful world around him, and boy-oh-boy is it beautiful. A simple shot of Miles kicking a dandelion is rendered with excellent composition and a golden hue that in other films would be reminiscent of a nostalgic time period. Are these supposed to be the best years of Miles' life? Can't he appreciate that breathtaking view of the ocean rather than the possible drug dealer at the picnic table?
If this is as good as it gets, maybe he's better off dead. As he's about to open his wrist, Miles is visited by an angel. Much like Frank Capra's IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE, or more accurately David Lynch's MULHOLLAND DRIVE, Miles is shown an alternate existence where he's loved, where his father isn't a sack of waste, and where he can be at peace. Spadaccini renders this timeline in natural colors, rather then the golden filter of before, as if to say that this is the life that should be if only he would clean up his act.
The open-ended nature of the visuals also allows for another interpretation, one far more bleak. The angel is a hallucination of Miles' dementia. Once Miles sees this other timeline, this angel of death nods his head condoning the suicide. The final shots are even more vague as Miles puts down the knife and leans back in his bathtub. Is he going to start anew? Personally, I think he took his life and he's allowing the blackness to take him.
Capping off the beautiful imagery is a score consisting primarily of violin and piano, the two saddest instruments in the world. The slow, weeping notes they play reinforces the visuals but never overpowers. I can only guess the result is something akin to the silent era when theaters would hire pianists to play while the movie screened in effort to heighten the various emotional ups and downs. As I write this, having watched the movie three times already, the chords play in the background standing on their own and not relying on any sort of visuals for their emotional impact.
If EMO PILL is any indication of things to come from Spadaccini, I'm looking forward to them. You don't have to like something to appreciate it, such as THE FIRST DATE. At his very least, Spadaccini is doing something different and that makes his work far more interesting to me. With THE FIRST DATE, Spadaccini tried to emulate silent film conventions inside a modern-ear framework. With EMO PILL, he corrects his mistake of utilizing classic conventions which result in a darker piece of art that's far more substantial, personal, and worth viewing.