film review: the future
Watching The Future seems to be a similar experience to that of watching a friend’s student theatre or modern dance performance. You squirm awkwardly in your seat, wanting to think something nice about it, then they bound over enthusiastically to you at the end and the only words you can manage are, “that was, um, er…very original”
Director, writer and performer, Miranda July, has a distinct distaste for convention and hence proves a divisive creative figure. Her past projects include a short film chain letter project, a website on which anyone can paste text anywhere on the page, and a film about awkward sexuality and setting your own hand on fire (Me and You and Everyone We Know). It seems you will either find July’s work charming and enigmatic, or aloof and self-indulgent.
The Future is a collection of her strange mental fragments strung together, and an attempt to blend mundane observation with the magical and surreal. Jason (Hamish Linklater) and Sophie (July) are 30-somethings wedged in an apathetic kind of existence, trying to flatly avoid the prospect of getting old. However, after the rescue of a stray cat named Paw Paw provides an unexpected catalyst for change, the couple decide to quit their unsatisfying jobs and start living. Sophie enters a strange relationship with the middle-aged Marshall (David Warshofsky) and Jason becomes a door-to-door tree salesman. Yet the film remains as directionless as its central characters, and possesses awkwardness, or perhaps an earnestness, that soon becomes grating.
But this might all just come down to a matter of taste. If you don’t mind your films steeped in whimsy, then you may not have such an uncomfortable reaction. It can indeed be fun to indulge in whimsy sometimes, but The Future becomes an all out whimsy-banquet where the wait-staff keep rolling out plate after plate with maniacal grins on their faces and show no signs of stopping. What’s under this dish? Narration by a cat with a broken leg. Alright. What about this one? The ability to stop time. Sure, why not. A girl who sleeps in holes in the backyard? Okay then. A strange, animated yellow jumper that has the capacity to creep across the pavement and onto Miranda July’s legs and propel her about the room in a strange convulsive dance? And, cue the whimsy bloating.
There are some sweet moments and ideas embedded in this film, a highlight supplied in the exchanges between Jason and an old man who sells him a hairdryer. The pair fall into a strange kind of friendship that involves a collection of dirty Christmas limericks and ham sandwiches on a corduroy sofa.
The sound design is also interestingly rendered. It’s noticeably quiet, yet sometimes magical, and sometimes similar to the faint technological humming that is ubiquitous in contemporary, internet-soaked life.
Whereas Me and You and Everyone We Know had a depth and a strong ensemble of uniquely charming characters, there seems something comparatively lacking in The Future, which allows the whimsicality to become overwhelming. However, for those who harbour similar sensibilities to that of July’s wide-eyed weirdness, perhaps you’ll find something enchanting in The Future and it won’t leave you squirming cynically in your seat.
