Home, Project Home Productions
Home, Project Home Productions

Home

Reviewed by Socks Whitmore
Dance Camera West Festival
Through January 12

This review is part of the Z. Clark Branson/Stage Raw/Grow@TheWallis Mentorship Program for Young Journalists

Home, Experimental Short, Project Home Productions, United States

Written and directed by choreographers Larkin Poynton and Chris Martin with filmmakers Andrew Ellis and Ben Stamper, Home follows a young woman as she “searches for a sense of home after experiencing a loss of innocence.” Visions of a new family aid her as she “negotiate[s] her shifting sense of self and find[s] a sense of home in her new identity.”

The story, though abstracted and not always comprehensible, is beautiful to watch unfold. The film was initially inspired by Allen Ginsburg’s “Song,” a poem that is read by Tom O’Bedlam in segments over the course of the film. The chunks of narration are too far apart for an audience to keep track of a verbal thread, especially with all of the other moving pieces occurring simultaneously.

The filmmakers did well in choosing locations in Iceland for gorgeous shots of open fields, rolling mountains, rocky cliff sides, winding streams, turbulent waves, and snowy plains. The use of long takes and panning allows for captivating images to hold audience attention, sometimes even leaving viewers hungry for more when dancers are momentarily out of frame. The collaborative history and subsequent creative mesh of directors Andrew and Ben is apparent. Even though directors Larkin and Chris are noted as first time filmmakers, their choreography translates well to the medium. The cuts that transport dancers from one location to the next are clean and effective, though it is clear that much of the dance would be alluring regardless of the terrain it takes place on. That makes moments like the posing of the ensemble right at the edge of a cliff against a backdrop of vast mountains, or turning their heads to direct the camera as it follows the path of a stream, extra potent.

As a whole, the dancers have strong ensembleship; the choreography makes incredible use of synchronization and delay, and the focus on arm and hand movements close to the chest and face truly evokes the solidarity between characters. The sense of familial support is indeed conveyed through the dancers’ unity. The use of slowed down tangled limbs and clambering also turned out splendidly on film.

The loss of innocence the filmmakers note in their description is more obscure. The use of the ensemble in the forced ‘drowning’ of the child at the start of the film is confusing, since their main motive for the rest of the piece is to support and protect the lead. Based on the given description, the relationship between the child and lead is unclear. Interestingly, an older version of the film under the title The Weight lists a completely different description: “A young girl has a near-death experience, and her spirit and body become estranged.” Though the two versions have some differences, the fact that the creators have two incompatible descriptions for largely identical films suggests a lack of clarity in creative vision. For a film with so much content—sixteen minutes of dancing, eight dancers, five different songs, and numerous locations—an ambiguous description might serve better so that audiences can decide for themselves.

The diverse collection of original songs has solid production values and seems to support some kind of story, though perhaps not the one described; at times the lyrics are distracting because they don’t coordinate with anything seen on screen. Audiences may easily miss the dedication and title, which appear in fonts so miniscule that they require squinting for anything smaller than a full size theater screen. The pacing and arc of the film seem strong enough, but because of the film’s busy-ness, it requires at least one extra watch to really get a good grasp of it.

DANCE CAMERA WEST FESTIVAL at REDCAT, 631 W. Second St., Downtown; and AUTOMATA, 504 Chung King Ct., Chinatown; Thurs.-Sun., screening times vary; through Jan. 12th. Festival Schedule here. Running time: 17:26