Kirsten Macy, Helen Fratena, Larry Flynn, Don Shook,
Alex Hunter, Jill Bowden, Jenni Tooley. (Not Rated, 100 min.)
Only in America fashions a sprawling sense of a tempest-in-a-teacup madness, a madness
that might also be described as Only in Dallas. The film employs a mountainfull of
touchstones of modern Texas lore and suburban society life as it goes about the business
of peeling back its piled-high narrative layers. Director Rusty Martin and producer
Susan Kirr (recently transplanted to Austin) set high sights for themselves in their
first feature-length film, which they shot two years ago in Dallas. An onion-skin
storyline that keeps revealing set-ups lurking behind the scenes we're currently
observing and a huge cast of actors would bode trouble for even the most accomplished
and finely focused of filmmakers. Unfortunately, Only in America's ambitions far
outreach its grasp. The majority of screen time is devoted to Only in America's film
within a film: Just Say No to Satan. Set in the Plano suburbs, this plotline is rife
with fatuous society matrons, vigilant anti-drug enforcers, dope-smoking teens, Robert
Tilton-esque televangelists, a reputed psycho/hit man named John Wayne, and a Murdering
Cheerleader Mom-ish intrigue about a woman who plans to kill the daughter of her
next-door neighbor because it will increase her own property value (it almost, sort
of, makes sense within the context of the movie). Another Only in America storyline
involves the people who are filming Just Say No to Satan (and a guy who's filming
a documentary about the filming of Just Say No to Satan). This second group of characters
are seen in their offices, occupied with the latter stages of editing and unpleasant
negotiations over acquiring insurance against lawsuits. Only in America's third narrative
thread focuses on the nameless anti-drug agents who are gathering covert information
about the filmmakers. With all these balls up in the air, much of what goes on in
this movie remains fuzzy and perplexing. Some of what seems to have been meant as
satire falls far short of the mark and, at best, is broad characterization. And the
spottiness of these multiple storylines is more likely to confuse rather than enrich
the proceedings. Instead of intertwining throughout, the storylines jam into each
other with all the timing and elegance of a multi-car collision. Solid performances,
good camerawork, and an effective score by Phish's Page McConnell help offset some
of the film's more awkward moments. But, in the final analysis, Only in America is
more crazy quilt than tapestry.
1.5 stars
--Marjorie Baumgarten
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