A Defamiliarization of Mumblecore’s ‘Sincerity’ and Quirky’s ‘Sentimentality’: Moral and Political Engagement in Alex Ross Perry’s The Color Wheel (2011) and Listen Up Philip (2014)

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A Defamiliarization of Mumblecore’s ‘Sincerity’ and Quirky’s

‘Sentimentality’:

Moral and Political Engagement in Alex Ross Perry’s The Color Wheel (2011) and Listen Up Philip (2014)

Name: Joep Burger

Student Number: 10251332

Date of Completion: September 29, 2016 Supervisor: Eva Sancho Rodriguez Second Reader: Catherine Lord University of Amsterdam Master Thesis – Film Studies Word count: 17556

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Abstract

This thesis provides an analysis of two films by Alex Ross Perry: The Color Wheel (2011) and Listen Up Philip (2014). These films have been analysed in relation to the moral and political implications and connotations voiced within the academic and critical reception of the conceptualised mumblecore trend and the quirky aesthetic. The Color Wheel has been analysed in relation to the mumblecore trend and will focus on three themes central in the moral and political discussion: naturalism, individualism and whiteness. His other film, Listen

Up Philip, has been analysed in relation to the moral and political implications of the

following themes associated with quirky: nostalgia, sentimentality and innocence. The aim of this thesis is to show how certain defamiliarizations in style and form have implications for the moral and political reading of elements associated with the mumblecore trend and the

quirky aesthetic. In doing so it will become apparent how Perry’s films are critical towards

certain tendencies of these cultural-aesthetic trends through the interesting play of humour and irony, while also staying close to what it is critical of.

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1. Introduction

Imagine a recently released film that has a narrow focus on the personal predicaments of white middle class protagonists and does not address socio-political issues explicitly. Probably many films come to mind, ranging from clichéd romantic comedies to more ‘serious’ arthouse drama’s. At first, many films that come to mind perhaps don’t seem political because they do not address contemporary political issues explicitly. In my opinion, their apolitical nature is highly questionable. As many theorists have argued; cinema is always political. Jacques Rancière, a French philosopher, is one of those theorists and wrote in The

Politics of Aesthetics (2004), how art and politics share common ground by foregrounding

their similarities. Like politics, “artistic practices are ‘ways of doing and making’ that intervene in the general distribution of ways of doing and making as well as in the relationships they maintain to modes of being and forms of visibility” (13).

The relationship between politics and cinema is also argued by Christian Zimmer and Lee Leggett in “All Films Are Political” (1974), by claiming that every film is “a product of ideologic nature” (124). While I find this a convincing case, the political nature of every film is not yet acknowledged by all film critics. In contemporary American independent cinema, there is an emerging trend that has been often criticised for being politically disengaged;

mumblecore. Geoff King, a professor of Film and Television Studies, has noted that mumblecore is often criticised for not having a “social frame of reference” (Indie 2.0 168).

The term was supposedly first coined in 2005 at the South By Southwest Film Festival by a sound mixer, Eric Masunaga, who saw similarities between a handful of films (three to be precise) that premiered at the festival that same year (Alter 176). These films were: Kissing on

the Mouth (Swanberg, 2005), Mutual Appreciation (Bujalski, 2005) and The Puffy Chair (The

Duplass Brothers, 2005). All three films were about the personal predicaments of aimless white middle class ‘twentysomething’ postgraduates. These films had a do-it yourself aesthetic and non-professional actors. The combination between the two often led to inarticulate dialogue; hence the umbrella term “mumblecore”.

The term was picked up by film critics to label other films mumblecore as well. The term was used in different, often opportunistic ways, for both marketing purposes and in film journalism. Critics used it in ambiguous ways to identity certain films as part of a mumblecore movement. Films that have been associated with mumblecore are Nights and Weekend (Gerwig 2009), Beeswax (Bujalski, 2009), Humpday (Shelton, 2009) and Lena Dunham’s

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5 Tiny Furniture (2010). Dunham is most known for her television series Girls, an HBO

production that focuses on the lives of ‘twentysomething’ post-graduates in New York City. The term was also used in an interview with writer and director Alex Ross Perry, that was published in the film magazine Cinema Scope in 2011, to identify his film The Color

Wheel (Perry, 2011) as a “contra-mumblecore effort” (Sicinski, “Gravity’s Grayscale”).

Another remark was made on the blog Whitmanwire.com in 2014 by Vincent Warre, claiming that The Color Wheel has a “post-mumblecore brilliance” (Warre, “The Post-Mumblecore Brilliance of “The Color Wheel””). The Color Wheel is about two nagging siblings, Colin (Alex Ross Perry) and JR (Carlen Altman), who go on a road trip together to retrieve JR’s belongings at her old professors’ house, who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend. The association with mumblecore made me wonder how mumblecore has been theorised and how this specific film relates to this trend. In other words, how does it go into dialogue with

mumblecore as the term has been conceptualised as of yet. In doing so, I will focus on the

political and moral implications and connotations of mumblecore voiced in its academic and critical reception. This will be the focus because what is most interesting about mumblecore is that it is either criticised for lacking diversity and a social-political frame (in connection to the socio-political context in which the trend emerged), or praised for a naturalistic portrait of the lives of twentysomething post-graduates in this day and age (which is in connection to notions on what that group is ‘like’ in the contemporary socio-political context). By analysing The

Color Wheel in relation to the moral and political connotations and implications of this trend,

I aim to show the moral and political dimension of this film.

Upon seeing Perry’s next feature Listen Up Philip (2014), I was interested in reading more about how his films have been received. Listen Up Philip is about a narcissistic writer, Philip (Jason Schwartzman) awaiting the release of his new novel, while also dealing with his break-up from his girlfriend Ashley (Elisabeth Moss). Where The Color Wheel is perceived as “contra-mumblecore”, this film was called “quirky” in a review that was published in The

Independent in January 2015: “The style is as quirky as its characterization” (Macnab, “Listen

Up Philip, film review”). In the academic field, James MacDowell (an assistant professor in Film and Television Studies at the University of Warwick) has theorized this term and I felt like this film can actually be perceived as a subversion of the quirky aesthetic on many levels, when taking his theorization into account; especially since characters with ‘right’ moral intentions are an essential aspect of the quirky aesthetic according to MacDowell (“Quirky: Buzzword or Sensibility”, 59). Therefore, I will analyse this film in relation to the quirky

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6 American Independent Cinema) and by others who have criticised the trend. Like the analyses

of The Color Wheel, I will focus on how Listen Up Philip is in dialogue with the moral and political connotations and implications of the quirky aesthetic and its academic and critical reception, because like mumblecore, the quirky aesthetic has been criticised for avoiding “explicit political commentary of any kind” (Manley 192). To make the term more graspable I want to note how quirky cinema is exemplified by Wes Anderson’s ‘off-beat’ films, according to MacDowell (“The Andersonian, The Quirky and “Innocence””, 154). By analysing Listen

Up Philip, I want to show the political and moral connotations and implications of quirky cinema and its reception. Simultaneously, through this analysis I aim to show the moral and

political dimension of this film. This brings me to my research question:

How are Alex Ross Perry’s The Color Wheel (2011) and Listen Up Philip (2014) in dialogue with the moral and political connotations and implications of the mumblecore trend and the

quirky aesthetic?

Through the analyses of these two films I want to cast a new meaning on the moral and political connotations and implications of mumblecore and the quirky aesthetic, as it has been conceptualised by others. This presupposes that there are differences between mumblecore,

quirky and these two films of Alex Ross Perry. The main reason why I make this presumption

is because of the sharp edge that his films seem to have towards the main characters, which is different from the ‘likable’ characters MacDowell described in relation to the quirky aesthetic, and the morally ‘complex’ characters Geoff King describes (characters that are neither good nor bad, and supposedly therefore more relatable) in relation to mumblecore. King claims that the mumblecore trend undermines the simplistic moral economy of the Hollywood mainstream (“Mumblecore”, 156). In relation to this topic, Perry has mentioned the following in an interview with IndieWire in 2015 when discussing the ‘unlikable’ nature of the characters in his films: “I’ve still not been able to articulate what it is that I find attractive about someone who is ostensibly unlikeable” (Perez, “Interview: Alex Perry Ross”). In Perry’s Cinema Scope interview he highlights that “if there is one thing I really can't stand in movies, it is utter sincerity” (Sicinski, “Gravity’s Greyscale”). These two claims suggest that he aims to create characters that are unlikable, and that the viewer should look at the characters in his films with an ironic distance. In other words, he aims to cue the viewer to see the characters as unlikable, without necessarily expecting a sincere engagement with the protagonists. Perry’s films superficially seem to adopt aspects of the theorized mumblecore

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trend and quirky aesthetic, yet also contains elements that bring specific aspects of these conceptualized trends in a different context. Therefore it can be analysed if his films seem to contain different forms and styles that are not necessarily seen as part of these cultural-aesthetic trends as they have been conceptualised so far. More importantly, it becomes relevant to think about how the differences cast a new meaning on the similarities between

quirky, mumblecore and Perry’s films.

For both films, the role of irony, humour and satire will be discussed in relation to particular themes that have been associated with mumblecore and the quirky aesthetic. The

Color Wheel will be analysed along three main themes of mumblecore’s reception:

naturalism, individualism and whiteness. Listen Up Philip will be analysed along the following two aspects associated with quirky: nostalgia (e.g. sentimentality and romanticizing) and innocence (e.g. themes of childhood and naivety). The role of irony, humour and satire is relevant because these elements cue the spectator how to interpret the aspects of mumblecore and quirky adopted by Perry’s films that are seen as politically or morally (dis)engaged. This will be an important aspect of this thesis, because the use of satire, irony and humour creates space for criticism. And this criticism shows how moral and political implications and connotations of mumblecore and quirky are negotiated in Perry’s two films, while simultaneously foregrounding a moral and political dimension of his films.

The relevance of this research topic lies not only in the question how Alex Ross Perry’s two films have a political dimension, but also how different styles and forms can make a film seem more politically engaged while still focussing on the personal predicaments of white middle class protagonists. At the same time, I aim to show through the analysis of

The Color Wheel how the different ways in which mumblecore has been conceptualised are

contradictive and varied, because the film seems to fit the parameters of mumblecore on some levels, while also subverting it on other levels. This shows how the theorization of this trend is still in development and up for debate, especially because the characteristics of mumblecore cinema can change over the years and this needs to be appointed. As mumblecore is a relatively new phenomenon, academic research on this trend is still in development and needs further investigation. In blogs and in popular press, it is more widely (and also loosely) used, making it interesting to delve deeper in the contradictive ways in which the trend has been (de)politicised. In the next chapter I will discuss more in depth what the current state of affairs is regarding mumblecore, how quirky has been conceptualised by MacDowell, how and why quirky has been associated with political disengagement and how certain concepts such as satire, humour, irony and pastiche can show new ways of looking at the political and moral

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dimension of the quirky aesthetic and mumblecore trend. An analysis of The Color Wheel will follow in chapter three in relation to mumblecore, and an analysis of Listen Up Philip in relation to certain ‘(a)political’ aspects of the quirky aesthetic will come after in chapter four. But first a clear outline of how and why mumblecore and quirky are perceived as either political or apolitical will be appointed in the following chapter to clearly show the context of, and theories related to, this thesis. In doing so it will also become clear why I am analysing the films along the themes I have named earlier.

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2. Context and theory of mumblecore, quirky and ethico-political

(dis)engagement

This chapter will first show how mumblecore and quirky have been conceptualized on a moral and political level. I will not delve into all of the details of the mumblecore trend, only on the aspects that have been associated with morality and politics, to show why my analysis will focus on particular themes for each film. After that, I will do the same for the quirky aesthetic, followed by a set-up of relevant theories that will be used to analyse the films of Alex Ross Perry in relation to the moral and political connotations and implications of these two cinematic trends.

2.1 Mumblecore’s moral and political (dis)engagement.

Mumblecore has been broadly discussed in Geoff King’s chapter “Mumblecore” from his

book Indie: 2.0: Change and Continuity in contemporary American Indie Film (2014). In the introduction of his chapter he summarizes mumblecore’s most characteristic features as follows: “ultra-cheap DV aesthetics and a quite narrow focus on the everyday relationship foibles and inarticulacies of a ‘twenty-something’ post-college generation in the era of the text message, email and YouTube” (122-3). The DV (Digital Video) aesthetic he associates with

mumblecore, is not necessarily a general aspect of mumblecore. Funny Haha (Bujalski, 2002)

has been generally agreed to be the ‘first’ mumblecore film (King 123). King rightfully clarifies how both Funny Haha and Mutual Appreciation (Bujalski, 2005) are shot on 16mm film, instead of a digital video camera. What is interesting about mumblecore’s aesthetic, is that it is often associated with ‘authenticity’, ‘naturalism’ or ‘sincerity’.

Dennis Lim mentioned in his The New York Times article on mumblecore in 2007 that “specimens of the genre share a low-key naturalism” (Lim, “A Generation Finds its Mumble”). This is echoed by Alice Van Couvering, claiming in her web-article “What I Meant To Say” from 2007 that mumblecore shares this common feature: “generally these films are severely naturalistic portraits of the life and loves of artistic twentysomethings” (Van Couvering, “What I Meant to Say”). Owen Gleiberman has mentioned something similar in 2009 in an article published on the website of Entertainment Weekly regarding the characters in Bujalski’s films: “all of these characters seem like real people” (Gleiberman, “Mumblecore, What is It Good For”). In line with this observation, Chuck Klosterman notes

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in “What’s (Not) Happening” (a piece published on the website of Esquire in 2007) that Bujalski has “figured out how modern people think and he understands how modern people talk” (Klosterman, “What’s Not Happening”). Similar remarks have been made on the naturalism of mumblecore by Eric Kohn in 2005 (in his IndieWire piece, “The Word ‘Mumblecore’ Turns 10 Years Old This Year. Can We Stop Using It Now?), claiming that it has an “unvarnished realism”, regardless of his scepticism towards the overarching term.

In relation to these remarks on the mumblecore trend, Geoff King has identified how the movement falls in a long tradition of “formal qualities” that indicate a naturalistic tone, such as a hand-held cinematography and a low-key narrative (“Mumblecore” 127). Eva Sancho Rodriguez has mentioned something similar in her (as of yet unpublished) article “Blame It on the Irony: New Sincerity, Moral Relativism and the Problem of Political Commitment” (2016), by underlining how mumblecore cinema often deploys “carefully constructed markers of sincerity, such as hesitation, nudity and body language” (16). What I’d like to add to this is that these ‘naturalistic’ elements contribute to the pseudo-realistic form in which mumblecore films are presented, suggesting an expected sincere engagement with the characters. Without these elements, it would seem more far-fetched to claim that mumblecore characters are like ‘real people’ and show how ‘modern people think and talk’ (as Gleiberman and Klosterman have claimed). Therefore, what makes this political, is that particular style elements seem to imply more realism, blurring the boundaries between what it purely cinematic and what is part of a perceived ‘reality’ in the contemporary socio-political times in which we live.

Stephen Lee Naish has written a chapter on mumblecore in his book, U.ESS.AY:

Politics and Humanity in American Film (2014), titled “Mumblecore in Obama’s America”,

arguing that mumblecore films may not contain a political context, but that the films do have a political subtext (40). He notes: “by focusing on universal themes of love, jobs, education, friendships, longing, and freedom, the genre subtly explores the life and times of an era” (40). In doing so, he is claiming that mumblecore films express a particular feeling of living in this particular time; which gives the trend a particular political dimension, because it becomes tied to a socio-political context from which it emerged.

While this may true, the trend is also strongly criticised for lacking any social frame of reference or political commitment. An article from Film Comment, written by Amy Taubin, responds to the films of Joe Swanberg and highlights how he ignores any real socio-political issues, by labelling his films “smug and blatantly lazy” because Swanberg seems to think that “his life and those of his friends are separate from the war or the global meltdown that is upon

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us” (Taubin, “Mumblecore: All Talk?”). Something similar has been noted in an article from

The Village People in 2007: “Mumblecore’s compulsive navel-gazing, paucity of external

references, and narrow field of interest is not for every taste” (Hoberman, “It’s Mumblecore!”). Although this article is milder towards this mumblecore tendency than Taubin, it still acknowledges that there is a narrow focus that could cause opposition. In “I Can't Lead This Vacation Anymore: Mumblecore's American Man”, a chapter from Cycles,

Sequels, Spin-offs, Remakes, and Reboots: Multiplicities in Film and Television, Amy Borden

claims that mumblecore films have “no trace of irony” (302). She explains that “they are perhaps the most earnest films ever made, which is in part why they are often attacked for their myopic worldview” (302). This supports my claim that the sincere tone of mumblecore can in fact be seen as an important variable as to why his films are both criticised for lacking a social frame of reference and praised for showing naturalistic portraits of young people in this day and age.

In line with the criticism on mumblecore’s narrow worldview for not articulating any contemporary socio-political issues, the trend is often associated with narcissism. Alicia Van Couvering wrote in “What I Meant To Say” that it’s “easy for a critic to dismiss it [mumblecore] as narcissistic or indulgent” (2007). While Van Couvering is writing about the narcissism that lies in the fact that mumblecore directors create films on what they know, the characters that occupy the realm of mumblecore have also been perceived as narcissistic. This is highlighted in 2013 by Paul O’Callaghan in an article on the website of the British Film

Institute, by pointing out the “self-indulgent navel-gazing of the characters” (O’Callaghan,

“Where to Begin with Mumblecore”). I agree on the fact that the predicaments of the characters in labelled mumblecore films are hardly matters of life and death, but there is a certain mundaneness to the predicaments of the characters that has been acknowledged as well. As Eva Sancho Rodriguez has mentioned in her article “Blame it on the Irony: New Sincerity, Moral Relativism and Problem of Political Commitment”, mumblecore films have also been perceived as a form of moral relativism by “suggesting that being good is only possible in the personal, familiar and intimate” (16).

While some see the focus on the individual as narcissistic and apolitical, Geoff King places the trend at the end of his chapter on mumblecore in a “broader social historical context”, which is the “broader cultural shift of emphasis in the post-Thatcher/Reagan era towards the individual at the expense of the social, as focus of popular attention and locus of explanation, particularly in documentary/realist forms” (Indie 2.0 168). In doing so, he makes a connotation between mumblecore’s style and a broader political context. This shift from

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collective politics to individual politics has also been described by Jeffrey Sconce when discussing what he has conceptualised as the American ‘smart’ film in his article “Irony, Nihilism and the New American ‘Smart’ Film” (2002):

“American smart cinema has displaced the more activist emphasis on the 'social politics' of power, institutions, representation and subjectivity so central to 1960s and 1970s art cinema (especially in its 'political' wing), and replaced it by concentrating, often with ironic disdain, on the 'personal politics' of power, communication, emotional dysfunction and identity in white middle-class culture.” (352).

He describes smart cinema as a 1990s sensibility, using films such as Safe (Todd Haynes, 1995) and Happiness (Solondz, 1998) as examples. While the irony in ‘smart’ films is a key element for a politically critical dimension (Sconce 369), mumblecore cinema is (as described earlier) according to Amy Borden “anti-smart”, for not containing any irony. This implies that

mumblecore can be perceived as apolitical, because the films are ‘unironic’. What this shows

is that irony can have a crucial role in shaping a critical political dimension. Sconce claims that irony is a “strategic disengagement from a certain terrain of belief, politics and commitment” (369). I will expand on this in the end of this chapter, along with other elements that create space for criticism.

In addition to mumblecore’s ‘naturalistic’ aesthetic and focus on the individual, as central points to the discussion whether mumblecore has a political dimension or is in fact apolitical, it should also be noted that mumblecore films have often been criticised for being too ‘white’, ‘straight’ and ‘middle class’. Dennis Lim’s piece in The New York Times notes the following on mumblecore films: “hardly models for diversity, the films are set in mostly white, straight, middle-class worlds” (Lim, “A Generation Finds its Mumble”). Spencer Semonson even wrote in The Badger Herald that the lack of diversity in these films is “shocking” (Semonson, “Class Critic”). In response to these assigned aspects of mumblecore, Simon Dickel wrote an academic piece on Medicine for Melancholy (Jenkins, 2009), a film that partially fits the parameters of mumblecore, yet (according to Dickel) explores themes that are ignored in films that usually receive the mumblecore label, such as gentrification and race (Dickel, “Between Mumblecore and Post-Black Aesthetics” 110). Dickel argues that the emphasis in mumblecore on whiteness is specifically addressed in this film by bringing it in contrast with themes that are supposedly more political. While Dickel sees Medicine for

Melancholy as containing a political dimension that seems to be lacking in mumblecore,

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that the film, “despite its all-black cast, keeps discussions of race to a powerful yet undeniable minimum” (120). In this sense, it seems equally silent about race as other films that have been labelled mumblecore, which seems to be an underlying problem within debates on

mumblecore’s political nature.

When thinking about how mumblecore films are mostly perceived as politically disengaged because of white middle class characters, it is important to think about how the representation of marginalized groups doesn’t seem to have this issue as much. An argument can be made here about the invisibility of white normativity, as Richard Dyer has described in

White (1997). He argues through the analysis of several case studies how whiteness seems to

be an invisible racial position that has also become an invisible norm (3). When a film seems to explore themes of homosexuality or race (simply by having homosexual or black protagonists), a political subtext is more upfront. Even when this film is very similar to films that have been labelled mumblecore, or when they also focus on interpersonal relationships, they are still sooner to be perceived as political. This is, for instance, shown by Medicine For

Melancholy and the Mark and Jay Duplass produced feature film on transgender prostitutes in

Los Angeles; Tangerine (Baker, 2015). Therefore, I want to show how a film that focuses on white middle class protagonists in their personal sphere can still be read as political.

2.2 Quirky’s moral and political (dis)engagement.

As mentioned in the introduction, the quirky aesthetic has also been criticised for lacking “explicit political commentary of any kind” (Manley 192). In the same vein, James MacDowell has mentioned in his piece “The Andersonian, the Quirky and “Innocence””, published in the anthology book The Films of Wes Anderson: Critical Essays on an

Indiewood Icon, how the films of Wes Anderson (as epitomes of the quirky aesthetic) have

sometimes been criticized for being “apolitical, ahistorical, conservatively nostalgic, endorsements of white privilege, or even tacitly fascistic” (153). While these points of criticism are based on many aspects associated with the quirky aesthetic, I will focus on the role of the thematic preoccupation with nostalgia and innocence in relation to the criticism on

quirky. But first, I will show how the term has been theorized by MacDowell.

In “Quirky: Buzzword or Sensibility”, MacDowell summarizes the quirky aesthetic as a sensibility that expresses itself as a tone in various ways within the margins of the following aspects:

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(1) a combination of varied comic styles such as deadpan, comedy-of embarrassment and slapstick; (2) a type of ‘self-consciousness’ in visual style which hints at a sense of surreal artificiality; (3) a thematic preoccupation with childhood and innocence; and, perhaps most importantly, (4) a tone that is often concerned to create tensions between ‘ironic’ distance from and ‘sincere’ engagement with protagonists. (54).

In spite of an ironic tone, MacDowell explains in this chapter from American Independent

Cinema: Indie, Indiewood and Beyond, how the quirky aesthetic has a specific moral

engagement with characters, because the spectator is invited to ‘root’ for the moral intentions of the characters. This is what he sees as a sincere engagement with the protagonists, while the irony often lies in the spectator’s knowledge that the actions of the protagonist are also, for example, somewhat naïve. To exemplify this, MacDowell uses Lars and the Girl (Gillespie, 2007), a film about a man who has a relationship with a sex doll. Even though Lars (Ryan Gosling) is shown to be delusional, the spectator is still invited to feel for his moral intentions (59). Closely tied to this is quirky’s preoccupation with childhood and innocence, which in an older piece from 2011, “Notes on Quirky”, MacDowell describes as a “language of ‘naïveté’, ‘simplicity, and ‘purity’” (9). This preoccupation presents itself not only in characterization, but also in visual style. Quirky’s fastidious neatness, combined with this preoccupation, led to some criticism. In an article in the magazine Jacobin, Eileen Jones wrote the following on Anderson’s latest film The Grand Budapest Hotel (Anderson, 2014):

“So I can’t claim Anderson doesn’t have a certain power as a filmmaker. But after watching The Grand Budapest Hotel, it seems clear he doesn’t use his power for good. He gloats over small contemporary cruelties, he candy-coats a world of casual nastiness in bright colours and hummable tunes” (Jones, “Wes Anderson and the Old Regime”).

In other words, she seems to imply that she opposes his sugar coated aesthetic because it glosses over any confrontational narrative aspects that are also present in the film; death, violence and war for instance. ‘Softening the blow’ is one way to describe this tendency, but simultaneously a romanticised image of the past is shown in the form of overt nostalgia, as the film is set in the 1930s, 1960s and the 1980s. This tendency in quirky cinema has been echoed by Michael Z. Newman in “Movies for Hipsters”. Some of the films he discusses are The Life

Aquatic of Steve Zissou (Anderson, 2004), (500) Days of Summer (Marc Webb, 2009) and Juno (Reitman, 2007). He argues that these films are expressions of ‘indie hipsterism’, and

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that nostalgia is a key feature of this style (75). In doing so, he is placing the films that have often been labelled quirky, in the broader contemporary context of hipster culture. More importantly, within this line of thought, nostalgia becomes a feature of a broader contemporary sensibility.

A romanticised and idealised nostalgia has been associated with the quirky aesthetic, and this tendency is often accompanied by a preoccupation with childhood and innocence (as MacDowell has argued). In “Notes on Quirky” he describes that quirky characters often have “a childlike view on the world”, and that the spectator is invited to simultaneously “be critical of and feel for their emotional state” (13). Consequently, this tendency is not necessarily framed as problematic, but in many ways endearing (in spite of a mild irony). In relation to this, Michael Z. Newman has noted that the Wes Anderson film The Life Aquatic with Steve

Zissou, “celebrates the childlike qualities of adults who refuse to grow up” (79). This could be

seen as unfavourable by some, because this quirky tendency could be interpreted as advocating for a naïve worldview, when the possible ideological nature of this cultural-aesthetic is taken into account.

The language of ‘naïveté’, ‘simplicity’ and ‘purity’ MacDowell has associated with the quirky aesthetic, is also discussed by Joe Kennedy in relation to the art of Robert Montgomery in his article “Against the New Naïve” for The Quietus in 2012. Kennedy argues that Montgomery’s art is part of ‘the new naïve’, which can be described as a way of glossing over socio-political issues by romanticizing everyday experiences and by ignoring any ‘real’ socio-political issues. Eva Sancho Rodriguez has rephrased this phenomenon in her article as a “logics of ‘self-soothing’” (18). Based on this criticism, it seems that Kennedy labels a childlike view on the world as a problematic tendency that seems to express itself even beyond the limits of the quirky aesthetic as a cinematic trend.

2.3 Mumblecore and quirky as ‘cultural sensibilities’.

What the previous two paragraphs have shown is that both the mumblecore trend and the

quirky aesthetic are often perceived as sensibilities that are related to broader cultural contexts

or phenomena. This notion has been theorized before in relation to film noir to describe it as a specific “outlook on life” (Conard, “Nietzsche and the Meaning and Definition of Noir” 19). Jeffrey Sconce has done the same for the American ‘smart’ film mentioned earlier. He uses ‘cultural sensibility’ and ‘structure of feeling’ as key concepts to theorize the ‘smart’ sensibility. As mentioned by Sancho Rodriguez, the term ‘sensibility’ has been made popular

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by Susan Sontag “Notes on Camp” (also an inspiration for MacDowell’s article on the quirky

aesthetic) and structure of feeling is a concept made famous by Raymond Williams in his Preface to Film (1954). Eva Sancho Rodriguez summarizes a sensibility as follows:

“originally used to describe a human quality, a sensibility now describes a set of cultural-aesthetic trends emerging in a specific context with clearly identifiable tendencies” (4).

Sancho Rodriguez follows in the footsteps of Jeffrey Sconce by also drawing on the concepts ‘cultural sensibility’ and ‘structure of feeling’ to label mumblecore and quirky as part of a new tendency in film, also known as New Sincerity. She refers to Warren Buckland to show that New Sincerity is a reorientation of postmodern irony and cynicism by combining it with sincerity (10). While this is an interesting concept that needs acknowledgement, the term ‘sensibility’ is particularly relevant for this thesis, because (as sensibilities) the quirky

aesthetic and the mumblecore trend express certain tendencies of that have been addressed in

the previous paragraphs. What this means is that through the analysis in the next chapters, Perry will be brought into context with cultural-aesthetic trends that have emerged from a particular ‘structure of feeling’, also phrased as “a particular way of looking at the world” (Spicer 25). In doing so, it will become apparent how his two films are in dialogue with these tendencies and give them a new meaning. But first, I will show how certain theories discussed below prove to be interesting for the analysis of the films.

2.4 Allusion and defamiliarization

Satire is a term that has existed since antiquity. In A Glossary of Literary Terms (1957), M.H. Abrams describes how satire is designed to “alter the reader’s attitude toward certain types of people, institutions, products, and modes of conduct” (65). When we regard the mumblecore trend and quirky aesthetics as modes of conduct in the form of cultural products, we can consider them eligible for satire. While this is what satire is meant to do, it is more precisely defined by Abrams as follows: “Satire can be described as the literary art of diminishing or derogating a subject by making it ridiculous and evoking toward it attitudes of amusement, contempt, scorn, or indignation” (275). However, in order for a cultural form to be regarded as satire, it also needs to allude to what it wants to satirize and defamiliarize the aspects of that what the cultural form alludes to. Johan Nilsson argues in his book American Film Satire

in the 1990’s that allusion and defamiliarization are two crucial aspects of satire in film (12).

He explains that “satire shows us new ways of looking at events or phenomena, usually through the perspective altering play of irony (expressing one thing while meaning something

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else) and the game of allusion (12)”. Irony is according to him the “true lifeblood of satire” (11). While irony can come in many different forms, I will use the term ‘irony’ in the same way as Nilsson: “expressing one thing literally, while meaning something else implicitly” (10).

For a spectator to see the satirical mode, they have to see the ‘signs’ and understand the irony. Nilsson explains several times in his book that satire needs specific cues and that there are numerous ways in which film can express these cues. He analyses different films to explain different ways in which satire expresses itself, while also highlighting that there are endless ways to do so, precisely due to the multiple weighing variables specific to film as a medium (23). Different elements such as narration, cinematography, mise-en-scène, characterization, editing and sound are elements through which satire can be cued. All these elements can work together to create new meaning. However, the differences have to be picked up on by the viewer for the satirical mode to gain pertinence. Nilsson explains it as follows:

Satire does not just exist within a film, but also in the mind of the viewer who makes the necessary mental operations, based on stylistic and formal cues as well as contextual knowledge. Satire emerges through the interaction between film and viewer. (15)

Through an analysis of Alex Ross Perry, I want to expand on Nilsson’s book by showing how Perry cues a satirical mode. Sometimes the satirical elements are more explicit and at other times more implicit, which is why in the previous paragraphs I have given the context from which Perry’s films have emerged.

The idea of alluding to other film styles and characteristics is discussed by Fredric Jameson and Richard Dyer as well with the term pastiche. In “Postmodernism and Consumer Society” Jameson describes pastiche as “a neutral practice of mimicry, without satirical impulse, without laughter” (167). The neutrality of this practice is however debatable. In

Pastiche Richard Dyer argues for a less simplified understanding of the term by emphasizing

its historicity. Since “a pastiche imitates its idea of that which it imitates” (55), it by definition copies “perceptions that are temporally and culturally specific” (128). In doing so, it holds the ability to criticise something, precisely by staying close to what it wants to criticise. Interestingly, it seems that slight defamiliarizations can have larger implications for the political and moral dimension of a film in relation to what it is alluding to. What seems to be

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celebrated in one cultural form, can be rejected in the other cultural form through the interesting play of irony and humour.

2.5 Distanciation

Nilsson sees irony as a key element of satire. As Linda Hutcheon has made clear in her book

Irony’s Edge: The Theory and Politics of Irony (1994), irony creates distance (12). However,

she clearly states that even though “distance can, of course, suggest the non-committal”, it can also be “interpreted as a means to a new perspective from which things can be shown and thus seen differently” (47). In relation to the subject of this thesis, I aim to show how aspects associated with the quirky aesthetic (nostalgia and innocence) and mumblecore trend (naturalism, individualism and whiteness), gain a new meaning in the two films by Perry. In A

Dictionary of Film Studies (2012), distanciation in cinema is defined as follows: “strategies

aimed at inhibiting emotional involvement in the film […] to produce in viewers a critical response as opposed to passive immersion” (Kuhn and Westwell 124). While irony is one way to do so, humour can do so as well by playing on moral codes.

The role of humour will also be discussed in relation to Perry’s films, because through humour certain values can express themselves. When a film cues the audience to laugh at something, by ridiculing certain elements in (and of) the film, it could be critical towards this. Noëll Carroll expands on this notion by explaining the relationship between values, morality and humour in Humour: A Very Short Introduction. In regards to Alex Ross Perry, I want to analyse how his films cue the viewer for comedic moments and what (dis)values are expressed through this. For example, it was André Breton who said that black humour is the “mortal enemy of sentimentality” (qtd. in Bevis 99), making it more relevant to think about the role of humour towards elements of the quirky aesthetic that seem to showcase sentimentality as endearing.

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3. The Color Wheel as (contra-)mumblecore

In this chapter Alex Ross Perry’s The Color Wheel will be discussed in relation to the

mumblecore trend. As the previous chapter has shown, the thematic focus will be on

naturalism, individualism and whiteness. The manner in which The Color Wheel is in dialogue with the way these themes have been claimed to be showcased in mumblecore cinema will be central to the analysis. First I will give a short summary of the film so the analysis will be more apprehensible.

The Color Wheel tells a darkly humoristic contemporary story of a brother, Colin

(Alex Ross Perry), and his sister, JR (Carlen Altman). Even though both of them seem to despise each other, they go on a road trip together to retrieve JR’s belongings at her old professor’s house, with whom she had a short relationship. During their trip they have to deal with each other, JR’s ex-boyfriend an old college professor, an extremely Christian motel owner, JR’s news anchor idol and old high school friends they accidentally run into on the way. From the beginning of the film, it is clear that it is JR’s lifelong dream to become a famous news anchor, actress or television host. What she wants is to become famous. Her brother Colin is cynical towards this ambition, but also seems to have lost all hope for his own future by giving up his dream to become a writer and by staying in a dull relationship.

3.1 Naturalism and sincerity

Mumblecore’s connotations with naturalism and authenticity are based on presumptions about

what constitutes naturalism and authenticity. These terms are rather problematic, but by looking at the films that connote to these terms, they do signify how a naturalistic ‘tone’ is shaped by specific elements. As mumblecore’s reception has shown, films that have been filmed handheld, focus on the personal sphere and display hesitancy in performance, are often perceived as being more naturalistic. They seem to resonate with documentary style filmmaking, such as ‘cinema verité’ or the films of John Cassavetes. Even though these associations are existent, it does not have to mean that films are therefore truly more naturalistic or authentic. At the start of The Color Wheel, it immediately becomes apparent that the film is shot in black and white and on 16mm film. This is also confirmed by Alex Ross Perry in an article he wrote himself for IndieWire on the use of 16mm film (Alex Ross Perry, “Indie Filmmakers Can Afford to Shoot on Film”). The use of this type of film alludes

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to John Cassavetes’ Shadows (1959) and Andrew Bujalski’s Mutual Appreciation; two films with a seemingly similar aesthetic as The Color Wheel. As can be seen in figure 1, all three films on the surface seem similar to the extent that they can be regarded as pastiche. Yet, The

Color Wheel is accompanied by a less sincere tone in other respects.

Before delving deeper into how The Color Wheel is ironic towards film styles associated with sincerity and authenticity, I want to go back to Nilsson’s theorization on satire in film. He notes that there is a split between content and form that is central to creating a satirical dimension to a film. In his words: “form and content explicitly work together to cue new meaning” (12). Something similar has been described by Sconce in relation to the American ‘smart’ film. He claims that “a mismatch between form and content” is one way to tell whether a film is ironic (361). Both of them do so by showing how a mismatch between specific elements of film causes an ironic distance. While this may be so, it would be more precise to claim that certain elements (such as narration, cinematography, performance, editing and sound) are all part of a film’s form and content and work together to create new meaning. For instance, a black and white aesthetic has often been used in relation to narratives with a more serious tone, which means that a certain cinematography is applied to benefit a serious narrative tone. A mismatch occurs when a black and white cinematography is used in relation to a more darkly humoristic narrative, while still containing other elements that allude to more ‘serious’ independent features.

The Color Wheel alludes to certain cinematic traditions that have been perceived as

naturalistic and authentic, and has been brought into relation with mumblecore. It alludes to

mumblecore because of several crucial reasons; a similar ‘authentic’ cinematography as Mutual Appreciation, a narrow focus on the personal predicaments of contemporary white

middle class ‘twenty-something’ post-graduates, a lo-fi aesthetic and the awkward (hesitant) moments associated with mumblecore by Nessa Johnston in “Theorizing Bad Sound” (70).

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The differences lie in how the film seems to create an ironic distance from characters by means of subverting some of mumblecore’s usual traits.

When Colin is introduced as a character, he is trying to persuade his girlfriend Zoe (Ry Russo-Young) into having sex with him before he leaves to help JR retrieve her belongings from her old-professors’ (and ex-boyfriend) house. In his effort do so, he is making remarks about his “black man’s sized erection”. While it is obvious that Zoe is not interested in his sexual advances, he keeps pushing his agenda to the extent that it becomes uncomfortable and humoristic to watch. Thus, in the first moments the film immediately portrays him as unsympathetic; his behaviour is something to oppose or something to laugh at. The spectator is not invited to feel for his intentions, as the comedy lies in the inappropriateness of his behaviour. Perry’s performance underlines this by a slight sarcastic and monotonous tone in his voice. An ironic distance from Colin as a characters is created by this opening scene, because a sincere engagement with him as a character is not stressed by an effort to create a sense of sympathy for him. The film consciously portrays him as such, making it more obvious that his character should be viewed ironically. While irony is a complex term that can be expressed in many different ways, M.H. Abrams has generally defined irony as follows: “when a meaning that a speaker implies differs sharply from the meaning that is ostensibly expressed” (135). This means something is ironic when there is a contrast between what is said (or in the case of film, shown) and what is meant. As the spectator is not necessarily

meant to sympathise with Colin, a contrast occurs between the film’s ‘verité’ style, that has a

long been association with sincere engagement and naturalism, and the insincerity of Colin’s character because he glosses over his intention to simply have sex by means of awkward attempts to persuade his girlfriend.

Shortly after Colin’s sexual advances towards his girlfriend, JR is shown in the doorway waiting for him to come downstairs so they can leave for their road trip. Zoe walks up to JR and sarcastically says: “Oh, don’t you look like a movie star”. To which she replies: “Oh thanks… so do you”. Again, both speak to each other with a sarcastic and disinterested tone to emphasise their pessimism. When Zoe walks away, JR sticks out her tongue to highlight her resentment towards Zoe even more. Like Colin, she is framed as an unlikable character who isn’t sincere towards others. When JR encounters her old high school friends, Kim (Anna Bak-Kvapil) and Julia (Kate Lyn Sheil), halfway through the film, this is highlighted more thoroughly. JR greets her old friends with a sarcastic tone. However, Kim and Julia’s are also marked by insincerity when they hesitantly ask JR if she wants to come to their party later on to ignore JR’s confrontational accusation that Kim is the reason why she is

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not friends anymore with Julia. Their hesitant and monotonous tone implies that they aren’t excited about seeing JR or about inviting her to their party; they only seem to do so to appear friendly. JR’s insincerity also shines through when she lies about just coming from a meeting with “Miss Wagner” (her all-time favourite news anchor) to discuss job options. What is obvious to the spectator is that JR only disturbed Miss Wagner while she was having her meal (to her discontent). This knowledge makes it even more apparent that she is consciously framed as insincere by the film.

Interesting about these scenes is that awkwardness and hesitancy is not brought into relation with the “heartfelt” nature of awkwardness and hesitancy Ness Johnston has associated with mumblecore (“Theorizing Bad Sound” 70). It is also not in line with claims of authenticity that have been made in relation to mumblecore for depicting awkwardness and hesitancy as utterly humane, and therefore ‘sincere’, qualities (Lyons, “Low-Flying Stars” 170). This also doesn’t coincide with mumblecore’s “compassionate treatment of characters

trying to be moral, good people”, as Sancho Rodriguez has described in her article (16). In

fact, in The Color Wheel, awkwardness is framed as a characteristic of insincerity. The awkwardness stems from characters pretending to be in a particular role, similar to what Elif Batuman has described in 2014 in an article from The New Yorker: “Awkwardness is the consciousness of a false position” (Batuman, “The Age of Awkwardness”). This type of awkwardness is epitomised in the scene where JR and Colin arrive at a motel, only to discover that it is run by an extremely Christian owner who only approves of married couples sleeping in the same room. To save money, JR and Colin pretend to be husband and wife. To their surprise, they have to “prove” their love. As can be seen in figure 2, there motel owner has a sign that says: “I need to see all married couples kiss”. In response, the siblings feel obliged to do so. They awkwardly kiss and the same discomfort and awkwardness is cued to be felt by the spectator, due to the stigma of the incest theme.

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While incest is still a taboo, it also makes for darkly humoristic scenes. Throughout the film the discomfort of incest is anticipated on by making this the key element to awkwardly comedic and unsettling scenes. The motel scene has shown to be comedic and cause discomfort and there are many other instances where mixed feelings are to be felt, which I will expand on now.

During the film there are several moments where the awkwardness of interfamilial affection and sexual tension is at play. When JR wants to change her clothing before they arrive at her professor’s house, she undresses in the presence of Colin. He feels uncomfortable and turns around. JR responds by saying: “What, have you never seen a pair of beautiful bosoms before?”. After this sequence, when they walk back to the car, JR jokes that Colin was probably molested by their old babysitter. Colin’s replies with: “If I was molested, you were definitely molested”. You have always been a hot commodity in the world of perverts”. By calling his sister a hot commodity he is sexualizing her right after seeing her in her underwear. This scene has the same effect as the one where they have to kiss; the situation is meant to be awkwardly funny. A similar situation occurs when Colin and JR are at the party of JR’s old friends. JR makes a comment on the fact that Colin still has “that photograph” of her and her friends in their bathing suit. She says: “he saved all of them, even the ones of me! Isn’t that kind of weird?”. Later on, when JR helps Colin after someone purposely tripped him, he says to his sisters: “Should I disrobe for the remainder of my physical?”. In doing so, he is poking fun at her pretending to be a nurse for a living, so she wouldn’t be seen as a failure by the other guests, but he is also sexualizing her once more.

While these instances appear to be comedic, the ending shows that these moments are preludes to their actual incestuous encounter. The film implies that JR and Colin have sex. This scene is shot as a close-up of their faces, so it remains questionable whether they are actually having sex or just making out. Either way, the intensity of it remains. This ending brings the entire film in a new perspective. Geoff King says the following on mumblecore:

A major plot turning point for the typical mumblecore production is something that barely exists; an event that often does not quite happen, a relationship that stutters and stalls awkwardly or a connection that does not come fully to fruition. (Indie 2.0 128) King claims that typical mumblecore film seem to also be hesitant on a narrative level; nothing really seems to happen in these films (which is precisely what some say the films are about). In The Color Wheel the theme of incest is introduced, which is very atypical for

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true desire to an unknown thematic area for mumblecore standards. In Lynn Shelton’s

Humpday (2009), homosocial desire is explored through a narrative of two straight men trying

to prove their ‘fearless’ masculinity by making a gay porno together, but they fail. While this is an interesting film on dualities, it in no way compares to The Color Wheel, where incest is a central theme.

If Humpday is a light-hearted comedy, The Color Wheel is darkly humoristic. The

Color Wheel has a darkly humoristic nature, because the ending of the film makes it very

ambivalent as to how the spectator is supposed to feel, a trait Matthew Bevis has linked to dark comedies; “dark comedies like grey area’s” (102). The spectator is left wondering if incest is a theme to laugh at or to take seriously. The ending also gives the previous scenes a different meaning; the scenes were not only meant to generate laughs, but they in fact say something about presupposed norms. In this way, the film is more articulate about society (by pushing the boundaries of what’s acceptable) than any mumblecore film. The film reflects a social reality through the interaction between film and viewer, and makes the theme of incest initially accessible by means of comedy and irony.

I want to relate this back to sincerity and naturalism. Mumblecore is perceived as naturalistic and sincere, based on hesitancy on many different levels: the cinematography is hesitant (handheld), the performances are hesitant, the morality is hesitant (characters are neither good nor bad), the narrative is hesitant (nothing seems to really happen), the editing is hesitant and the sound is hesitant. All these aspects are unpolished in mumblecore cinema, but they do allude to a long tradition of cinematic qualities that have been associated with realism, meaning that films that are overall ambivalent seem to be more quickly perceived as realistic. What The Color Wheel shows, is that some mumblecore aspects can be undermined by combining aspects of it with unexpected traits: dark comedy, insincerity, irony and a climactic ending (no pun intended). What the film shows is that these defamiliarizations can in fact make the film more articulate on social values and an existing social reality. Thus, the film has a satirical tone towards elements in mumblecore films that are perceived as ‘heartfelt’, naturalistic and sincere, by showing that insincerity and irony can say just as much (if not more) about a social reality. Especially since the final scene is by far the sincerest scene in the entire film. In the next section I will expand on this notion in relation to individualism, narcissism and archetypical characters in The Color Wheel.

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As mentioned in the previous chapter, both Jeffrey Sconce and Geoff King have identified a shift from collective politics to individual politics over the last decades in different forms of visual culture. Sconce has done so for independent cinema culture and King for documentary and realist forms. Mumblecore falls under both (although it should be noted that Sconce specifically relates this to the 1990’s sensibility of ‘smart’ cinema). The previous chapter has shown that the focus on the individual (and his or her personal sphere) can be perceived as narcissistic or a form of moral relativism. However, what Sconce’s specifically has shown in relation to the ‘smart’ film is that cinema can still be critical towards its own subject matter by means of ironic distanciation; as mentioned earlier, he calls irony a “strategic disengagement from a certain terrain of belief, politics and commitment” (369). It therefore becomes possible to think about The Color Wheel and how it seems to oppose its own narrow focus on the personal predicaments of two white middle class ‘twenty-something’ post-graduates.

The Color Wheel alludes to the identifiable tendency of the mumblecore trend to have

a narrow worldview. In the most explicit way it does so by the use of many close-ups. Christian has noted the following in Joe Swanberg, Intimacy and the Digital Aesthetic on the close-up: “The trope of highlighting a character's most emotional moment with a shot of the face is a well-worn convention in cinema and is widely considered to be the most revelatory and intimate of cinematic conventions” (123-4). He explains that that this use of the close-up is not applied in LOL (Swanberg, 2006), because most scenes are in close-up. As can be seen in figure 3, the many close-ups used in The Color Wheel show that this film also has that tendency.

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Christian sees the use of the close-up as a means to encourage “empathy and identification”, while also claiming that empathy is a “key component of mumblecore” (132). The Color

Wheel makes use of close-up when characters express their self-interest, frustration, apathy

and narcissistic behaviour. In the opening scene of the film, Zoe tells Colin (after ignoring his sexual advances) in a close-up: “Colin, you should change your pants. Those are dirty and ugly”. The previous paragraph has already illustrated how Colin is not framed as a sympathetic character in this scene; and the use of close-ups only highlights this aspect, instead of encouraging a sense of empathy for the character; it is an over-emphasis on the ‘self’.

Halfway through the film, in the scene where JR confronts her boyfriend (and ex-professor), Neil (Bob Byington), this use of close-ups is also applied. Both JR and Neil express all the frustrations they have towards each other. Neil says to JR: “It just feels like, when I think back on what we had, all I think about is like you like, wasting my time, spending my money, eating my food, etcetera”. In a close-up shot JR replies by screaming: “Fuck you! I don’t have to deal with this. I’m just here to get my stuff”. This verbal aggressiveness spans over a scene that lasts fifteen minutes. The use of close-ups in this scene does not achieve an empathy for the characters, but more a close proximity to their narcissism. Through the performances the characters are made explicitly narcissistic and the spectator is not cued to feel for them. Combined with the aspects that allude to the

mumblecore trend, it seems that the film denounces mumblecore as a narcissistic sensibility

through a tonal difference from mumblecore cinema as it has been described by others, making it more satirical.

The film also achieves this by making the two main characters seem like exaggerations of the white middle class ‘twenty-something’ postgraduate characters associated with mumblecore cinema. Richard Dyer has argued that this is one way for pastiche to be critical: “it selects, accentuates, exaggerates, concentrates” (56). The spectator learns in the first five minutes that JR has just graduated and still has the hope of becoming a successful broadcaster, and in the diner scene (a typical American diner I might add) we learn that Colin has given up his dream to become a writer, because in his own words “it is too pathetic to be an aspiring writer, it has such a negative connotation to it. I’d rather be a successful toll booth operator that an aspiring anything”. In American Film History, Geoff King has mentioned that most of the characters associated with mumblecore characters “are aspiring writers, musicians, and the like” (203). Through the dialogue and the characterization, Colin becomes a representation of the standpoint that being passively

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ambitious is naïve and petty, while JR represents many of the mumblecore characters that are still striving for their goals (in a passive manner). However, the film form seems to align more with Colin’s standpoint by mocking JR’s ambition. In the beginning of the film, Colin finds JR’s vision board in the car and at the party scene (at the house of JR’s old friends) JR gives her résumé to her old friend so she can pass it on to her cousin who happens to be an agent in Los Angeles. As can be seen on figure 4, JR’s vision board has a naïve and childlike quality to it and her résumé says that her special skills are: “Internet research, good with animals, ok with children”. While JR awkwardly claims that she has “the diversity of a young Robert Redford”, her ambition to become an actress or broadcaster is undermined by these mise-en-scène elements because the spectator is cued not to take her ‘childish’ ambition seriously. As a result, a sincere engagement with her ambition is undermined by an ironic distanciation from her goals.

Fig. 4: a shot of JR’s vision board and a shot of her thin résumé

Apart from this aspect and the explicit narcissism and awkwardness of the characters mentioned earlier, JR and Colin are also exaggerations of mumblecore characters in other respects. In The Wall Street Journal Richard B. Woodward has said the following on

mumblecore characters: “The genial passivity of so many of its characters is mirrored by long

takes and leisurely cutting, as though neither actors nor audience should be in any rush to go anywhere or accomplish much” (Woodward, “Mumblecore Realism in the Age of Technology”). In line with this, Geoff King has noted how “‘hanging out’ is an (in)activity that takes up much of the (usually brief) running time in mumblecore cinema (Indie 2.0 129).

Both main characters in The Color Wheel are passive. JR is passive in achieving her goal, and Colin in his overall daily life. In one scene this takes on a literal form, as can be seen on figure 5. Colin is lying on the street refusing to go the party of JR’s friends. In doing so, he is actively being passive. I use the word actively, because it highlights how Colin as a

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character is explicitly in protest by refusing to move his own body. This aspect of the performance makes the passivity of Colin a comedic passivity. By physically taking on the most passive state imaginable, it becomes a pose that turns “plight into pleasure” for the spectator (Bevis 32). His passiveness becomes a form of physical comedy, by ridiculing the absurdity of his passive state. In other words, it becomes something to laugh at. If this scene is not perceived as comedic, it still shows a ridiculous state that is exaggerated through his performance.

Fig. 5: Colin refusing to go to the party of JR’s friends

As archetypes JR and Colin become extreme cases of what can be perceived as problematic about mumblecore characters. The exaggeration makes them unlikable, which causes a form of distance, but simultaneously this distance has the implication of altering the reading of the film as whole. The extremity of their seemingly apathetic and passive behaviour is not meant to be taken seriously. This makes it satirical, because the characters are comically exaggerated as imitations of mumblecore characters, which is one way to cue a satirical mode according to Nilsson (68). If Stephen Lee Naish claims that “the films of mumblecore show a growing apathy and isolation towards the wider world” (40), then it seems that The Color Wheel is more articulate on this matter by taking the specific stance that this can be seen as a symptom of narcissism and anti-sociality; they are shown to be traits not to sympathise with. But perhaps other elements of the film suggest more complexity on this matter.

While the film shows JR and Colin to be decidedly narcissistic, most of the supporting characters are so as well. In fact, both the main characters and the supporting characters seem to represent certain American social types in an archetypical and generalised manner. Colin has a certain anxious quality, alluding to the nervous and ‘nerdy’ persona of actor Michael

A Defamiliarization of Mumblecore’s ‘Sincerity’ and Quirky’s ‘Sentimentality’: Moral and Political Engagement in Alex Ross Perry’s The Color Wheel (2011) and Listen Up Philip (2014)