Review of Old Joy (2006) by Fuck Y — 04 Jun 2007

For all the praise that's been heaped upon it by the indie world, [i]Old Joy[/i] is a fairly simple film, consisting of two old friends trying to rediscover the good times of their past relationship by trekking through a forest within a 76 minute runtime. It's one of those films where, narratively, not much happens, but where all the action is subtly reiterated by the characters' words, expressions, and surrounding environment. At first glance, we can tell that the two main characters are vastly different people with different lifestyles. The film opens with a shot of main character no. 1, Mark (Daniel London) practicing yoga in his backyard (a practice that he probably never intended to take on but was manipulated into by his post-modernist wife). The next scene shows Mark's pregnant wife making a smoothie with her blender (a recipe, which we come to know later, she heared from the healthy diet radio-station). In these two quick and sporadic opening shots, Kelly Reichardt says so much about the lifestyles that we choose to adopt so often without thinking about them. Later on, Mark gets a phone call from an old-time friend, Kurt (Will Oldham), who invites him on a camping trip to a hot spring deep in the forest as a means to spend some much-need time together. When we first meet Kurt, it's immediately striking that he looks like, well, a hippie. Add another mark to the checklist of opposing lifestyles and choices.

Through deeply quiet and mediative direction, Reichardt establishes a sense of loss and longing that permeates the picture through its entire running time. Unlike Kurt, Mark is more subtle in his joy at spending some time together with an old friend, as he dawns deep looks of regret and pain on his ride home after all is said and done. There are apparent, but not obvious, homosexual undertones that stem from the notion that the two men probably would've have been together had life not made the choices it makes. I could go on describing the events that take place in the forest, but it would come to no avail as they need to be experienced to be fully absorbed and understood. However, it is the ending of the film that truly encapsulates the vigorous power that Reichardt so expertly crafts into her subtle film. As Mark and Kurt drive home, the camera pans through the car windows to show city lights emerging out of darkness. After spending days in the forest, it's jarring for the characters, and the audience, to experience them in a way that disconnects man from peace, quiet, and judgement. The final set of scenes consist of Mark driving to a home of responsibility while the radio blasts political discontent, and as Kurt frantically walks around town looking for some kind of communication only to reach ultimate isolation and disconnect. It was in the few days at the forest that these two men got to experience the old joys of their past and to be the people they always were until post-modern life came calling; but we all have different ways of interpreting maturity and change (as Mark and Kurt symbolize) but the film's final point is that no matter how we reach that interpretation, it will almost always cause us pain.