It is hard to write about _Where to Land_
as a stand-alone film, but I'll try for
one paragraph. Protagonist Joe Fulton
(Bill Sage, who does not resemble his
namesake in _Meanwhile_) is pondering
retirement, a second career, and writing a
will. He is a noted director of "romantic
comedies," but the new generation only
remember him for the "grenade movie."
(Sage is an obvious stand-in for director
Hartley, whose fans all know this is
_Trust_ -- so much more than a rom com.)
Fulton views his growing irrelevance among
young hipsters with detached bemusement.
News spread that he is dying, causing
consternation among his actress lady
friend, niece, and cohort of associates
and neighbors. A metaphoric "son" from a
girlfriend past comes out of the woodwork.
In the Blu-ray extras Hartley likens this
gentle comedy to Moliere. After many
esoteric debates with the Greek chorus
over dodgy light beer ($1.5 a bottle),
and even a gut-punch for old time's sake,
all ends well. Fulton is asked to direct
again from a script about a beer-making
nun (the story told in Hartley's marvelous
novel _Our Lady of the Highway_).
If you scoff at cell phones, agonize
over bequeathing your 6 dinner plates
and a mountain of books, and like to
genuflect on how life's outlook change
at the end of careers, _Where to Land_
is perfect for you. Films about
directors' and writers' endgames are
so rare. Or perhaps I tend to skip
Angle-US entries which treat authors
as celebrities swilling brand-name
wines, who would be indistinguishable
from real estate agents if it weren't for
literary name-dropping and dinner
parties. Such films focus on the communal
trappings, light years away from the
Fulton's down-to-earth inner circle
(apartment supers running for election,
neighborhood priests, grocery store owners).
Perhaps a companion piece is _Starting
Out in the Evening_, especially its
ending. If I have one criticism, it is
that the young cast members are rather
upstaged by the old timers; there is no
new Sage or Elina Lowensohn, who got their
starts with Hartley, being discovered here.
But I may be wrong. (Lauren Ambrose, with
her dynamic star-turn in _Starting Out
in the Evening_, would have killed in
Hartley's universe!)
Hartley admits in an interview that _Where
to Land_ is likely his cinematic last will
and testament. There will be no adaptation
of _Our Lady of the Highway_, ready-made
for his trademark Dutch angles and guitar
riff act-breaks! But in fact his style has
evolved. His actors used to be acrobats
(see Bill Sage's manic turn in _Theory of
Achievement_). Sage's Fulton now moves
with a stately, measured grace -- you can
see ironic observations churning in his
head even when he is silent -- although
his "son" still has a hustler's nervous
energy. The immortal "Let me win Lotto
tonight" in _Theory of Achievement_ has
given way to Beethoven's piano concerto #4.
The camera work and editing feel less
jagged, and older characters speak in entire
paragraphs. There is a new-found precision,
with objects quantified and at rest,
their destinies fulfilled. Yet there is
also an elegiac sadness, especially about the
impending climate change apocalypse. When
Fulton recounts his mistakes with the women
he loved, it is impossible not to think
of the late Adrienne Shelly, star of _Trust_
and _Unbelievable Truth_, and feel a chill
down one's spine.
I have never asked why I used to feel such
kinship with Hartley's characters, all born
with the proverbial sign of the windmill.
Watching his short films again I realize it
must be the stubborn purity of those films,
the spiritual insecurity/yearning, the
desperation to defy conformity (and real
estate agents' fate). One archetype must
have been Bill Sage striving to write the
greatest pop song in history in _Theory of
Achievement_, despite knowing nothing about
music. (Hartley himself, in contrast, is
a self-taught intellectual who talked like
a theology professor on day one. He was
also awarded a Cannes best screenplay and
France's Chevalier of the order of arts and
letters.) By sheer delusion of grandeur and
ridiculousness Hartley's outsiders end up
winning a Nobel Prize, dying in gunfights,
going to jail, or get exiled overseas, with
the last three occurring with the greatest
regularity.
It is a miracle then, that we all get to end
things on our own terms. And begin again.
I'm sure we will be reading more about
blue-collar priests, amnesiac assassins,
ex-con mechanics who knows all about
thermodynamics, in his novels to come. When
Bill Sage rolls up the collar of his suit at the
film's end he looks just like Robert John
Burke at the beginning of _Unbelievable
Truth_, on the verge of a fantastic odyssey.
