7 Chinese Brothers

This film is a case study on why film criticism exists, to separate the chaff of it from the wheat it pretends as.

Neither an evolution nor simulcrum of Lost in Translation, Office Space, or Bottle Rocket, this extended screen test of Jason Schwartzman inhabiting deep suburban environs as a narcissist layabout was likely pitched to distributors as a mashup of all three.

Writer-director Bob Byington begins with an old R.E.M. song, 7 Chinese Brothers. This song, from the band's Reckoning album, was naught but a prank; it was Michael Stipe singing the liner notes to a random gospel LP he'd found laying around, which the studio engineer mistakenly recorded, and which the band, finding the track's accidental provenance hilarious, formed into a nondescript, mildly jangly tune.

Does this near non-song by R.E.M. inform Byington's film in any measure? No, except that he cues the song at the end credits so that the key grips might have a mildly jangly ruffle and flourish behind their accrediture.

From the song Byington derives the title, and upon the meaningless title Byington builds no story whatsoever, and by no story I mean not even a Seinfeldian non-story proposition.

Jason Schwartzman is the lead as "Larry." Schwartzman, who is a celebrity and a very good actor, and who might perpetually attract some long-tail audience interested in watching him do anything--say, selling peanuts in a ballpark vendor's uniform-- for a duration of 76 minutes, is required by Byington to move in and out of bland sets (a quik lube garage, a dingy convenience store) and make slight actions (throw a hat at a Mazda, deny your grandmother a sip from a Big Gulp) that are supposed to stand in for the plot or un- plot as it were. Nothing worth filming, nothing that would be worth filming by students, is there.

These are petty crimes against cinema Byington is caught at, but that should be no taint against Schwartzman, who screen tests as plumly as ever, or indeed against Tunde Adebimpe or Eleanor Pienta, who check in as friendly companions who join us in wondering just what is supposed to be fascinating about a character who is simultaneously so self-possessed and so lacking in initiative of thought, credible emotion, or stirrings.

Rather than screening this movie, Schwartzman enthusiasts are better off hunting down Hotel Chevalier and spending the time gained from unspent viewing balancing their checkbooks.

Bob Byington's 7 Chinese Brothers is less a film and more an idea, a thought, or even a potential TV show pilot. At seventy-one minutes in length, it's a film that practically questions what can be done with a film that has no cogent plot and relies on one simple, yet complex, character and his circumstances, most of which caused by his obnoxious attitude or his general indifference. On that basis alone, the film shouldn't be half as successful as it is, but through its feet-dragging narrative, practically impulsive structure, and low stakes, I did admittedly enjoy this film.

This film isn't laugh out loud funny, nor is it particularly compelling or insightful. It gives us Larry (Jason Schwartzman), a man evidently in his early thirties, living alone with his bulldog, who gets fired from his restaurant job minutes into the film for sneaking drinks at the bar. He wanders over to Quick Lube for an oil change, asks the cute manager girl for an application, and soon enough, he's working for an incorrigible man named Jimmy (Jimmy Gonzales), who encourages him to steal any spare change out of customers' vehicles. On top of all that, he's constantly going back and forth to the nursing home to visit his grandmother (Olympia Dukakis), who remains his last living relative, in addition to seeing his friend Major Norwood (Tunde Adebimpe).

Larry is the kind of character only Jason Schwartzman could play to great effect, for he conveys multiple different feelings with nearly every line or facial expression he conjures up. Larry is also the kind of character that acts like he has everything under control and that his cleverness and falsified feelings of self-worth will carry him to the places he needs to be. The problem is Larry really isn't half as good as he thinks he is, and this results for a lot of awkward scenarios thanks to Larry's random jokes/physical comedy and a multitude of impulsive, inappropriate actions that have consequences on his part.

Schwartzman has to carry a lion's weight of Byington's film on his back, and with that, succeeds because without a dynamic screen presence, 7 Chinese Brothers could've fallen apart in its first few minutes. But because Byington keeps the film moving, through fluid scenes that reflect humor and believable, albeit rather light, drama and never stalls into romantic or comedic clichés, the film, in turn, keeps moving and assembling a fun and breezy personality.

I have no idea what relevance the title has towards the story, nor can I figure out the takeaway from this film other than life can pass you by if you think you're funnier and more important than you actually are. However, through very little in the way narrative structure and flair and glamour, Byington has made 7 Chinese Brothers work almost solely on the charisma and dynamic talents of his leading actor, in addition to making this a largely fun, project. At the end of it all, I can admire that.

Starring: Jason Schwartzman, Olympia Dukakis, Tunde Adebimpe, and Jimmy Gonzales. Directed by: Bob Byington.

Jason Schwartzman is Larry, a pill-popping alcoholic who lacks any ambition whatsoever. When Larry isn't getting fired or looking for a new job he can make a joke of, he spends his time visiting his grandmother in a nursing home and talking to his dog.

Schwartzman seems to be the go-to actor for insightful, comical and somewhat dark character studies. Though he is quite charming in this quirky role, 7 Chinese Brothers isn't really insightful at all. There are a few funny moments here and there but when the film takes a more serious, dramatic turn towards the end, the most unpredictable thing is how inconsequential everything turns out to be.

It's a sad story about a likable loser, like many of the characters Schwartzman plays. When it's revealed why this character is the way he is, it makes sense but it's hard to feel anything for him due to his unwillingness to admit his true feelings and embrace the opportunities given to him.

Friday night of this week, my friend, DF, got a bowl of Paomo at what I determine to be a very good Chinese restaurant. Upon receiving the brothy meat with breed, he noted that the smell was something between garbage and vaginal. He ate three quarters of the bowl and when we walked later in the night, he kept logging higher levels of dream-like status. Barring the full range of after-effects, 7 Chinese Brothers was sort of like the soup: smelled rank, I ate it anyway, and left feeling sort of tired.

Comedy? This one was reaching for dolorous, had a few risible moments a la the man and his dog plot line, and then wound down.

Cause it really doesn't have much of a plot, and the little that resembles a plot doesn't seem to make a ton of sense.

It's basically about a self-absorbed 'loser' who played by someone else other than Jason Swartzman would probably be tedious.

But Jason's natural charm and charisma redeems the character somewhat from feeling like a total prick and the 'movie' from being a total trainwreck.

I write movie as 'movie' because it really doesn't feel like a movie, it feels like maybe it would have worked better as a TV series split up to 3 parts instead (although I'm not sure that people would tune in every week to see the next episode).

There are some okay scenes, mainly the ones between Jason and his (also real life pet) dog, they have better chemistry together than Jason has with any of his human co-stars in the movie.

So I would only remotely recommend this to hardcore Jason fans who has to see everything he's in, if you're not too fussy about him give it a skip, if you dislike him then well you will without a doubt hate it.