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I should've known what I was in for with this poster...
I’ve just returned from an incredibly enjoyable breakfast at The Smith with a good friend that I haven’t seen in some time. We caught up a bit and discussed our lives in the city a couple years post-film school. In our catching up, I told her about a screening I went to yesterday for the much anticipated film New York, I Love You. I felt that after a solid 15 hours after my viewing of this film, I’d be calm enough to discuss it rationally and gently encourage her to wait until it comes out on DVD before seeing it. Instead, a certain rage and fury came flying out of my mouth along with flecks of my ham, Gruyère and egg brioche (okay, that last part was a lie – I just really wanted to relive my breakfast in any way possible). Riding on the success of Paris, Je T’aime, this collection of somewhat cohesive short films was expected to be vignettes of people’s lives accented by the essence and nuances of the city. In some cases, it turned out to be a complete mockery of what Hollywood thinks this city is and in others, it may as well have been Random City in Middle America, I Love You.
May I also point out that there was no storyline featuring a black character? Or a gay character? Asian characters were only the most overused stereotypes – cab driver, hooker, laundromat owner. The movie was shameless in its portrayal of New York. Did a tourist make this film? At one point someone actually says, “This is why I love New York – moments like these.” Unlike most feature length situations, this project has multiple directors and multiple writers to blame. Brett Ratner (who was at the screening for a Q&A afterwards) was one of them. His short was probably one of the most enjoyable – based on his real life high school prom night. Though Ratner is an alumnus of NYU, he did his growing up in Miami so the original story is Floridian… other than the story taking place in New York and a rather unnecessary voiceover discussing how many drug stores there are in New York, there was nothing very New York about it.
Well, then what was I looking for, you might ask? If I’m going to complain so much, how would I have fixed it? The answer is that I don’t really know – there’s an intangible subtlety to the experience of living here that is hard to capture but I know many have succeeded in doing so. What I can say is that it seemed the movie was made for non-New Yorkers who want to continue believing in our superficial stereotypes of frustrated artists and quirky girls wandering around videotaping everything they see à la American Beauty. It may even be made for those who aspire to be these stereotypes (we’ve all seen them wandering the streets, haven’t we?) or still romanticize the notion of the drunken, frustrated, apathetic, struggling, bohemian artist when they’ve coasted past that stage and have already made it in Hollywood. What makes matters worse is the title – though one can see it as a reflection of the kitschy New York tourist icon t-shirt, it was obviously seen by the producers as a demonstration of how New York the film was meant to be.
Rather than have this be a Time Out New York-style discussion of what makes a real New Yorker, I instead have three questions prompted by my musings over this movie for you today: 1) Who do you create for? Your stories, films, artwork, etc. – who is your target audience? 2) What’s in a title? If New York, I Love You didn’t have a title purporting to encapsulate the spirit of the city – would we New Yorkers receive it differently? 3) Many of these directors and writers were returning to short form expression after directing features for some time… do you think switching from long form to short form or vice versa has an effect on the quality of one’s work?
Also, those who have seen New York, I Love You, whether you consider yourself a true blue New Yorker, a resident, a newbie or you have no connection to this city at all – please share your opinions, I’d love to hear them.
Ahhh the “aspiring filmmaker” character who goes around filming everything is another cliche I seem to see all the time in movies. (Should have added that to your cliche post.) Who does that in real life? Who?? That’s right, no one.
Uh, anyway.
My target audience changes a lot. Some times I write for myself. Sometimes I write for Raymond Carver. Other times I write for my friends or, ahem, my workshop class.
As to short form vs. long form…I guess that would depend on the individual. Speaking of Carver, apparently he tried writing a novel once and it was just terrible (I think it was Carver, unless I’m mistaking him for someone else). So, different strokes for different folks.
I don’t think that the issue is Long to Short or Short to Long. I think that these directors were trying too hard. Attempting to create certain types of moments that people will artificially respond to is not the same as telling a story that reflects NY and its people. This movie wasn’t made for the New Yorker, but for the romantic who thinks they are a New Yorker.
New York I love you was a failure because of the writing and the cluelessness and lack of direction of the ’stars’. Only two of the 12 stories were any good. The one in the ghost hotel and the prom one. I say that meaning they didn’t suck-per say. The only thing that most of them held in common is that NY is THE place to get laid. It could have been Las vegas incidentally set in NY. Maybe it was on the NY set in LA that looks like the city of NY. It was THAT fake. None of the love declensions from Paris Je’Taime. None of the yearning of the characters to connect their settings to memories to past lives, or any real moments to speak of. It was a bandwagon of Hollywood’s heavy weights careening for a ‘cool’ indie pack of shorts-on sale for 9.99.
All of the stories as a collection seem really random both in how they were arranged and how it all flowed together-it didn’t. The one with Natalie Portman-made very little sense. So, she’s a hassidic jewelry buyer that is sort of infatuated with the Indian guy (Irrfan Khan)? There’ s a wedding scene where she imagines marrying him and not her Mr. Orthodox. It was just weird-because he is like 50 and their relationship is playing like straight barter negotiation 10 seconds before.
The whole thing was full of marquee stars and they weren’t given very much to do and therefore pseudo meaning is forced in and they just do random things-whatever feels right but it all feels wrong. At times, the tone veers from shear frivolity-that plays like capriciousness to stream of consciousness with characters whose ‘consciousness’ couldn’t be less interesting to culture clashing where the characters seem truly unaware of their enculturated subtext-you know we’re just two human beings here without any of the struggle to get to that point of realization. The worst thing is no one is really listening to anyone else. People are just out for their own interests-sex, ego, money, looking ‘cool,’ sounding witty, seeming profound, mistaking sheer coincidence for a destiny without laughs.
There is a pick up scene with a con-man played by Hayden Christensen in a bar intermixed with a may-december romance between Rachel Bilson and Andy Garcia-for which a mailbox is the center-did they just throw darts at a wall for casting? Dredge up all bar cliches? Can anything be more flat, more off-putting less sexy than a middle-aged maybe gangster, a nymphette from the OC and a lost Star Wars guy in a love triangle? None of the considerable cast seem to rise above these carry-overs from their other, more well-known roles. I wanted to turn it off at a few points-but sheer morbid curiosity reigned to see how crappy it could get.
The camera constantly got in the way, edits happened for no reason and close-ups were pointless. The characters learned nothing from themselves or others-it had an aire of solipsism and isolation-that defies its title-Ny I love you, actually I just kind of like you, actually I just think you’re cool. I just think you’re hot and wanna do you, actually you’re just a stranger to me. What I mean is get the fuck away from me-That’s NY baby. It’s digression not progression.
The Ethan Hawke writer seeking free love with the pro played by Maggie Q was the crowning touch of chink sagacity that the whole think was trying to lift from Paris-and ends up cheapening. A handsome, emotionally challenged writer who only goes for prostitutes he can seduce without bills on the nightstand? Pure Shlock.
Even the best stuff here doesn’t come close to the least well done shorts in Paris. It really relies on dragging in the fans from before-and punishing them with this only semi-literate, half felt goulag of characters, not necessarily less diverse, but poured on thick-without subtlety or actual goals. Like they were almost saying-this is so cool, it’s so NY. If that had been up in type between each section it would have capsulated each scene. Watch how cool these characters are-they have such attitudes. They like sex more than other people that don’t live in NY. This smugness is the film’s ruling virtue.
It should have been warmer and more expansive-showcased the neighborhoods as a point of reference for characters, and individuated the stories more into their settings-and worked a little more in comedy.
Paris had this adult comedic tone buried in the levity that each character found-to love regardless of the hopelessness of love-to revel joyfully in its disappointment and misunderstanding. If you can’t love someone, accept it, if you can’t love yourself, laugh at it, if you can’t love this moment, love the place you’re having it in.
Have the first action connect somehow to the closing frame. Characters end up a little different from where they started. None of this happens in NY I love you. All the characters wonder around bumping into their circumstances and other characters instead of inhabiting the conflicts. Perhaps they should have begged Woody Allen to do one short to give rank and file to the thing. It was just a big mess. If they were going to reassemble the same concept from Paris into Ny, why not keep the things that worked? NY I love you is basically what not to do in a series of short films.
I worry about the state of American film when there are a lot of people just surface copying and repackaging European materials. And they do them much worse than the original and in a way that shows contempt for the people that have seen and enjoyed the former. It’s cocky and because they make money people don’t care that they lack erudition or honesty. How many things are getting adapted as I speak from England or France or even Sweden? So many. Let the right one in, Un Prophete, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, My Best Friend to name a few. All destined to be second rate reconstitutions. It’s the difference creatively between fresh squeezed orange juice or a frozen capsule of orange flavored corn syrup and tap water.
The studios have gotten very lazy. One has to wonder if the elites in the system still have in them to produce truly original storytelling not dragging on the Europeans’ coat tails. American culture needs film that stands on its own.
I haven’t spent anytime in NY-and this film doesn’t make me want to jump on a plane. It’s true drivel.