Chelsea Walls (2002)
“I think of it more as
a double album than a film.” - Ethan Hawke
A tone poem of sorts, “Chelsea Walls” is a character
meditation, rather than a character study. His film
is slowly paced, achingly acted, and as languid as a
pool of blood in a hotel hallway. It has almost no plot,
no beginning, no middle, and no end. It simply is. And,
with a few exceptions, it is something we want to see.
There are not so much stories here as characters
and moments. Not even moments… non-moments. Filmmaker
and scripter Ethan Hawke would rather meander through
the hallways of the fabled Chelsea Hotel in New York
City, opting to pause here and there to collect a moment.
His characters are vulnerable and hurt. They float through
the hallways, between the walls, and into the rooms
like mere ghosts of humanity, like artists.
There is Kris Kristofferson as an aging writer
coping with his immense sexuality and the notion of
its loss. There is Uma Thurman as a would be artist
caught in a purgatory of love with a men, not allowed
to become a real woman because the men in the world
will simply not allow her the freedom to grow. There
is Robert Sean Leonard and Steve Zahn as two newbies
to NYC who play beautiful and emotional songs in the
bathroom. The beauty of the songs are a smoldering yet
surreptitious indication of the dark elements threatening
to crush Leonard. There is Rosario Dawson, a young poet
stuck in the nether-world of love while her innocent
and teenage boyfriend Mark Webber proves himself to
be heading down the wrong track, thanks to the input
of his brother Kevin Corrigan. There is Jimmy Scott
as a gambler, a jazz singer lost and lonely in his world
built on its own meaninglessness.
Hawke rambles through these characters like a man
on Quaaludes. He often lingers too long. (The Kristofferson
story is not only reminiscent of several other films
out there, it’s quite dull). Sometimes he doesn’t linger
long enough. (The Jimmy Scott story goes nowhere). Sometimes
it is perfection. (The moment where Dawson shaves Webber
is flawless in its exploration of innocence about to
be lost).
Hawke’s film is masterful in its use of music.
Not only do characters in the film play music on screen,
but the score by Jeff Tweedy of Wilco is perfection.
Tweedy often brings us songs that sound like Eno’s ambient
work with acoustic guitar thrown in. The film plays,
indeed, like the double album Hawke thinks it to be.
It’s like listening to an old Dylan album. Only you’re
listening with your eyes as much as your ears. You are
listening visually.
“Chelsea Walls” isn’t for everyone. Some people
will hate it. But if one simply goes expecting to see
glimpses of life, moments that pass, time in perfect
and perfunctory order, they will be awed by its power
to crystallize moments.
Notes:
Also with Tuesday Weld, Vincent D’onofrio, Guillermo
Diaz, Natasha Richardson, Frank Whaley, and Harris Yulin.
Seen at SXSW
2002.
Acquired by Lion’s Gate at Sundance 2002.
Rick Linklater introduced the first screening at
SXSW 2002. Hawke was at SXSW for later screenings.
Part of the InDigEnt series of DV features where
directors were given $100,000 to make any film they
chose. Hawke was in Rick Linklater’s DV “Tape,” also
an InDigEnt film.
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Report
Card
Script:
B+
Acting: A+
Cinematography\Lighting: A+
Special Effects\Make Up: A+
Music: A+
Final
Grade: A
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