It may be a bit of an exaggeration to say that this is writer-director Ryan Martin Brown's feature debut. free time, “a generation-defining film.” Filmed in 10 days with a cast of relatively unknowns, this micro-budget comedy premiered at several mid-level festivals and received limited release in select U.S. cities. (Currently playing the Quad in New York and Landmark Westwood in LA)
But this cleverly crafted and sometimes hilarious tale of Gen Z anxiety has a lot to say about the present. The story follows a disgruntled office worker in his 20s who quits his job to join the great post-pandemic company, only to realize he has nothing left for him. Think about what you should do yourself when he gets home from work. Clocking in at a refreshing 78 minutes, this is an increasingly rare NYC indie film these days, when indie films themselves seem to be at great risk.
free time
conclusion
Observed diligently and carried out successfully.
release date: Friday, March 22nd
Gibbs: Colin Burgess, Rajat Suresh, Holmes, James Webb, Eric Yates, Jesse Finnick, Rebecca Bulness
Director-screenwriter: Ryan Martin Brown
1 hour 18 minutes
About 10 years ago it worked like this: free time There was a dozen. Movies similar to Andrew Bujalski mutual appreciationAaron Katz's quiet cityLena Dunham's small furniture and Alex Ross Perry color wheel It's full of hipsters and forms the core of New York's film scene, which stretches from downtown Manhattan to Park Slope. But in the Bloomberg era, rents have skyrocketed, aspiring artists have been priced out of the city, and more people have left the city during a long, devastating pandemic from which New York has not yet fully recovered, both economically and psychologically.
It's in the post-Covid era that Martin Brown sets his shaggy dog story somewhere between early Woody Allen and a few of the muttering films mentioned above. With its cast of practically eclectic Brooklyn characters (many of whom are played by stand-up and improv comics) and non-stop passive-aggressive vibes, free time Maybe it's part of a new movement best described as “vocal frycore.” Meanwhile, the film's narcissistic anti-hero Drew (played by Colin Burgess) looks like a modern-day Groucho Marx, albeit wearing wire-rimmed glasses and an ironic vintage T-shirt tucked into his jeans. Too short.
Eternally dissatisfied, Drew works a soul-sucking data entry job, but in the film's opening scene he quits, either out of spite or after failing to negotiate a promotion with his tough boss (James Webb). Back in his Brooklyn brownstone, Drew proudly tells his roommate (Rajat Suresh), a paid clickbait writer who sits glued to his laptop all day, that he's finally figured out what capitalism is and is now ready to live his life. Free from meaningless wage slavery.
But Drew has few friends, let alone any kind of romantic partner. So after he quits, he doesn't do much except lie in bed all day and watch the same movies. At best, he hoped to carve out a side career as a keyboardist for a local band, but when he attends rehearsal after a long hiatus, he discovers that the lead singer has changed the genre to country.
The music sequence is one of the funniest in the movie, filled with awkward tension that erupts as Drew begins to realize that the band doesn't want him anymore. His other encounters go further, whether at parties where he is clearly unwelcome (in one memorable scene he is seen standing in the kitchen staring at his phone with two other friends), or when he returns to his old job and attempts to re-employ himself, but surprisingly fails. Didn't lose. Under a fake name.
It's hard to rally behind a man who is completely full of himself and can't read any of the signals everyone is sending him. But Drew becomes a hero in his own right in an interesting turn of events (not worth spoiling here). It says a lot about the crisis America is facing right now.
It's not really satire, but free time It offers a sly commentary on a generation (in this case, college-educated white people) that refuses to pursue the difficult financial goals of previous generations but doesn't know what else to pursue. It's a more expensive lifestyle than ever before.
It's not that surprising that Drew ends up trying to save his own skin, and like any New Yorker, he'll do whatever he can to survive. What's interesting about Martin Brown's sharply observed and entertaining debut is its variation on the famous Big Apple adage that if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere. If success means making money, what does it mean anymore? But still miserable and relatively broke?
Unlike Woody Allen's ode to his hometown, ManhattanThere will be no fireworks at the start. free time And there is no sad, intense romance at the end. Rather, there is an acknowledgment that participation in the daily grind may be the best the city has to offer.