It’s not often we get a film like “Ballast.” The genre is quite small (along with its audience, unfortunately) and releases are few and far between. Thankfully, record label Jagajaguwar will release the first film by musician and filmmaker R. Alverson, “The Builder” which should find an audience with fans of the aforementioned film.
The movie follows Irish immigrant (unnamed, played quietly and deeply by actor Colm O’Leary) as he prepares to start production on an ambitious carpentry project: a replica of an early American cape house. Right from the get-go, he feels the weight of the entire project, and it eventually crushes him. He puts it off, doing a small amount of work at a time, instead finding various ways to entertain himself rather than facing the difficult project head on. He spends a day with his nephew, he plays a song on his banjo, he takes a swim in a lake. Eventually the entire area itself becomes overwhelming, as he’s not even brave enough to face his family and friends in the area. He retreats to a totally new town and takes on a totally new life, he avoids the topic of his project, and simply lies when asked of it, feigning pride over his accomplishment. The project, among other things, continues to loom in his mind, tormenting him for the rest of the film.
There is little more than that in terms of narrative, which isn’t a bad thing. It limits the audience, sure, but the lack of a meaty story is actually one of its strengths. Alverson uses a minimalistic approach to truly flesh out the character, his inner problems, and the overall themes of personal deception, creativity-derived fatigue, empty freedom, and immigrant life. Taking cues from contemporaries such as The Dardenne Brothers and early Nuri Bilge Ceylan, the confidence in this film alone is extremely impressive. Unlike other American film-makers that dabble in the shooting style of the aforementioned (hand held, bleak colors, long takes) such as So Yong Kim and Ramin Bahrani, Alverson is not only brave enough to shed narrative and completely immerse the audience in his view of the world, but he is also successful. Films like “Treeless Mountain” and “Man Push Cart” employ slight narrative in order to focus on human emotions and interactions, but they often fall back on by-the-book plotlines (as if they don’t trust themselves enough) and, in turn, they destroy the moody, temporal experience that was intended and that Alverson so strongly evokes.
Although the film is undeniably character-driven, the director is careful to observe the situations and problems the builder character is going through, and the audience is not expected (or, thankfully, forced) to pity or be frustrated with this man. It would be very easy to have such pity for this character or to be frustrated with his lack of will in relation to his responsibilities, but the restraint both behind and in front of the camera is spot-on.
Something not often found in these types of films (neo-neo-realism?) is music, but this one has a fairly long resume that boasts bands such as Bon Iver, Gregor Samsa, and Spokane (which is actually Alverson’s recording moniker). Thankfully the music is relegated to the distant background most of the time, as relying on music in a film like this would’ve been overdone. While the inclusion of such music isn’t distracting or bothersome, it does seem a tad superfluous to include any songs at all, as the movie remains the same experience with or without them.
It’s very difficult to say anything bad about the film as it’s such an assured debut. The best is definitely yet to come, but that’s not saying the film doesn’t stand strongly on its own merit. Again, this kind of contemplative film isn’t for everyone, but for fans of “Wendy and Lucy” or “Ballast,” this one ranks right up there with the best. [A]