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by The Naked Kiss, posted on June 10, 2008 The Tracey Fragments is a story about a 15 year old girl named Tracey Berkowitz, played by Ellen Page (Trailer Park Boys, Hard Candy, Juno). Tracey is a normal, confused, self-loathing 15 year old girl, who in her spare time hypnotizes her brother Sonny into thinking he is a dog. Sonny ends up being a bad dog and runs away and Tracey is left roaming the streets to try and find him before a blizzard ensues… Tracey tends to fantasize a lot, especially about a hot new guy who just started at her school called Billy Zero. The teenage female fantasy aspects of the film were pretty fun and interesting. When Tracey is looking in a magazine she suddenly sees herself and Billy all over them and projects her rock star love affair throughout the film. The stark juxtaposition from reality and fantasy is pretty intriguing and sad at the same time. Being a teenage girl myself once, I could sympathize with these aspects of Tracey, we all want to be bigger and better than ourselves, so these teenage fantasies are something in the film that most girls will identify with. The film uses multi-screen effects which gives the film a comic book feel, but instead of being fast actioned and bubbly, the film’s very chaotic and miserable. The Tracey Fragments plays from Tracey’s memories and is over a period of about 24 hours, it is non-linear and the way the film is shot and edited adds to the frustration, anger and chaos that Tracey is going through. There’s a definite sleazy and seedy element to the film, the positions that Tracey puts herself in and ultimately ends up in, and it is quite an emotionally confronting film at times in a bleak way. Whilst the way the film is edited won’t be pleasing to everyone, and will probably be a deciding factor in whether you love it or hate it, it’s still an interesting entry and doesn’t take it’s ‘arty’ quality too seriously. I normally never comment on acting abilities but after seeing Ellen Page in both Hard Candy and this, she is a really amazing actress who pulls her roles off in such an honest and pure manner that she really could be Tracey Berkowitz. The film is also based on a novel, which I have never read so I can’t comment on whether the film is true to the book, the author Maureen Meved wrote the screenplay so I am assuming that it will be pretty close. The film is definitely unique, although the use of multi screens / split screens isn’t a new concept (see Time Code) the way that it is put together combined with the soundtrack to evoke Tracey’s mood and memory is pretty interesting. Whilst I am not sympathetic towards the poor-misunderstood teensy angle, the way the film is executed saves it from becoming too much of a poor little girl whinge fest. This is a film for a younger crowd, although it is worth watching just for the interesting take on trying to emulate the fragments of a teenage girls mind during a crisis. The film is deeply metaphorical and the act of Tracey’s brother going missing, to me represented the loss of her childhood, without ruining the film, there is an event that occurs at the same time as Sonny’s disappearance which would indicate the loss of childhood and purity. Several events in the film such as Tracey’s mother ignoring her on the phone (with a long cord) could be seen as severance from the umbilical cord, to further symbolize the coming-of-age / self discovery, innocent girl corrupted metaphor that was very prevalent to me in the film. There are further elements and scenarios in the film that contribute to Tracey being forced into adulthood but mentioning them will simply be spoiling the film. Overall this is a really provoking and well told story that is told in a non-traditional manner. The film really confronts the viewer and takes them on an emotional journey that (self loathing aside) hasn’t really been explored. The Siren Visual edition of this DVD comes with a comic book entitled Tracey Berkowitz in ‘Caught Between Stations’ and a bunch of special features which all around make this a decent purchase. Source: dvdholocaust.com |