It's a bold move to call your film High Art because, well,
what if it's not. Whether the title of this film is to
be taken as a double-entendre (it's about drug-using artists),
as self-parody or at face value is not delineated in the film.
My best guess is that the title is intended to make people speculate
what it means, as I'm doing right now. Still, anyone scared off
by such a pretentious title might reconsider when they learn that
High Art stars brat packer Ally Sheedy, a woman whose career
piqued the interest of millions before sinking to lows like Short
Circuit and Maid to Order.
It's ironic that Sheedy stars as Lucy Berliner, a photographer
who hasn't worked professionally in 10 years. Sheedy has worked
steadily since appearing in films like WarGames, The Breakfast
Club and St. Elmo's Fire, but, for the last 10 years,
no one's really noticed. High Art is a good film to springboard
Sheedy's return to the public spotlight; it's as if she's finally
realized what we've known all along--that she is too good an actress
to be stuck in generic leading-lady roles.
The film is as much about Sheedy's character as it is about a
young woman named Syd (Radha Mitchell). Syd has just secured a
position as assistant editor at New York's trendy photography
magazine Frame. She is ambitious and eager to please and
puts in long hours--much to the chagrin of her longtime boyfriend
James (Gabriel Mann). (The scenes that take place in the offices
of Frame are hilarious, incidentally--some of the few light
moments in an otherwise heavy film.) While investigating a leaky
ceiling, Syd meets her upstairs neighbors, which include Lucy
Berliner, Lucy's strung-out lover Greta (Patricia Clarkson) and
a slew of other hangers-on. Syd, with her doe-eyed innocence,
is
immediately drawn to these people,
particularly Lucy. The two start talking photography, and the
groundwork is laid for a relationship, at first professional,
then
personal.
As Syd visits Lucy more regularly, the friendship between the
two deepens, and Syd convinces Lucy to do a photo spread for Frame.
The two spend a weekend in the country, and it becomes evident
that Syd is the intended subject of Lucy's photos. Things get
more complicated when Syd and Lucy sleep together. It may or may
not be Syd's first lesbian experience, but it is clear that she
is infatuated with Lucy and rapidly losing control over her feelings
and actions. When they return to the city, they find more complications;
lovers are jealous and drug habits escalate. All the characters
are in a painful limbo, uncertain where to turn next. This edginess--this
overwhelming feeling of uncertainty--characterizes the film.
High Art walks a fine line. Is it unbearably arty, or does
it just have unbearably arty subject matter? The direction is
pretty straightforward; the dialog is sometimes stilted and pretentious.
But it's a film about arty New Yorkers who--I'm guessing--might
actually talk that way. Either way, it's garnered awards at both
Cannes and Sundance, and, aside from a complete cop-out of an
ending, it's a surprisingly watchable film. Sheedy, whose gaunt
frame and lined face brings to mind Alien 3-era Sigourney
Weaver, has the New York cynicism thing down pat. And Australian-born
Radha Mitchell, as Syd, is believably smart and vulnerable. So
while High Art is not for all tastes--anyone still living
in 1955 who might be shocked by realistic lesbian sex scenes should
stay at home watching Cops instead--it comes close to what
its title claims. It's an art film, yes. But it's an art film
with enough substance to carry it past the highbrow conversations
and pretty lighting.
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