GRADE: B-
THIS FILM IS RECOMMENDED.
IN BRIEF: A flawed but intriguing look at an artist's journey.
JIM'S REVIEW: Artists are often told to make art based on what you know and that sage advice is exactly what Radha Blank did in her autobiographical indie debut entitled The Forty-Year-Old Version. This engaging comedy, filmed mostly in b&w and on a the smallest of budgets, depicts an artist's journey with many interesting characters and stops along the way.
Ms. Blank directs, writes, and stars here, making an impressive triple-threat debut. She plays Radha, a struggling playwright unable to find success she drifts into the world of hiphop, her real passion. A 30 year-old prodigy, Radha has gone nowhere in these past ten years, except for her teaching job which helps to pay the bills. As she wrestles with self-doubt and depression, her latest artistic project improbably gets green-lighted for Broadway. This contrived plot device leads her and moviegoers to this question: Will the artist stay true to her own vision or sell out? It's a fictitious version of herself and any artist's on-going dilemma. Ms. Blank uses her real life experiences and unique talents to convey those two conflicting worlds quite effectively.
As an actress, she is a commanding screen presence with some droll comic timing. Her screenplay creates an authentic world, one step from poverty and living off the gritty streets of Harlem. Her dialog has sparks of insight and wit. However, her depiction of her Caucasian characters in the film is slightly offensive though humorous. There is a a reverse Uncle Tomism subtly on display as these white stereotype characters become mere bobbleheads, walking cliches of ineptitude and silliness who are out of touch with the world and more concerned about their white privilege. In her directorial debut, Ms. Blank establishes her narrative well, but lets too many scenes go on past their expiration date, including a rap smackdown sequences that honors the craft but adds little to the story. The movie felt padded with too much attention to atmosphere and not enough on the plot structure. A shorter film version itself or more judicious editing by the filmmaker could have made the movie have greater impact.
Peter Kim as her gay friend/agent Archie and Oswin Benjamin as D, her rapper friend and muse, provide strong support as does Reed Birney as J. Whitman, in a thankless role as the pompous producer of her play.
The Forty-Year-Old Version is as crude and raw as its profane language and liberal use of n-words, but there is much to say and hear from a promising and gifted artist. One looks forward to her next project.
