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by Harvey Karten, published on May 9, 2008 3:04 PM “The Tracey Fragments” is likely to be discussed more for its avant-garde use of split screens than for its off-the-wall principal performance, but that technique, which usually works only for a cult audience, was introduced at least as far back as 1966 in Paul Morrissey and Andy Warhol’s poorly photographed and edited “Chelsea girls” If you liked Mike Figgis’s more recent “Timecode,” which was shot in four concurrent—not separate--ninety-minute takes about characters in L.A. who crisscross, you may find “Tracey” to your liking. However if you’re on the conventional side, you’ll have to trust your affection for the adorable Ellen Page to have any hope of a positive experience watching the split-screen technique taken to wild extremes by Canadian indie director Bruce McDonald. Why the multitude of split screens? Presumably, McDonald, using a script by Maureen Medved adapted from her debut novel of the same time, Steve Cosens’s arty photography records the 15-year-old’s tormented inner stage. She is far from centered, but rather a fragmented mess, the screens reflecting in haphazard chronological order the vast array of near schizophrenic emotions. Her disturbances are probably brought on more by constant harping from her dysfunctional parents than from genes, but who knows? Her sadistic father (Ari Cohen) is fond of grounding her, first by an entire month, then when she talks back by two and, hey, why not three? Her mom (Erin McMurtry) is no supporter, a three-pack-a-day smoker, possessing a fortunate hobby since maybe the termagent won’t be long for this world. Her brother’s claim to fame is his propensity to bark like a dog day and night—which is fine if your apartment does not allow mutts and if you want to keep your kitchen floor clean while still enjoying a canine ambiance. Because of Tracey’s self-hatred, she is a perfect doormat for her classmates, who torment her for having no breasts, though that’s the least of her problems. Her only emotional escape is a fantasy of being loved by a cool new boy in her class, the appropriately named Billy Zero (Slim Twig). When her grounding is not enforced, she spends time looking for her missing brother—though were I she, I’d not be too eager to find the lad. If “Tracey” were filmed in straight, narrative order fit for the uncritical multiplex audience, it would be just a same ol’ same ol’. But that might not have been so bad. At least we’d see the great Ellen Page strut her stuff, banging her head and fists against a wall in the film’s most melodramatic scene. We’d even get the hint that she’s disturbed if we’re not too busy starting at our Blackberrys. But the split-screen wears on the nerves, irritates the nose, and once the psychiatrist-in-drag, Dr. Heker (Julian Richings) enters the scene, we in the audience might lose our own sanity. Grade: C Source: community.compuserve.com |
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© 2006-2010 Dominik Keppner
© 2006-2010 Dominik Keppner
