One More Time
Amber Heard and Christopher Walken star in a tale reminiscent of ‘Garden State’ and ‘Sunset Boulevard’
Writer’s Note: This review will contain plot spoilers.
One More Time is a messy movie. I don’t mean to say that the characters aren’t well-rounded or the acting and direction are poorly thought out. I mean quite the opposite. Writer/Director Robert Edwards weaves a tale in which each still tells a story, and each song or conversation has carefully crafted layering. No, I mean that the characters, themselves, are messing antiheroes at best whom we can’t help rooting for but, at the same time, more often than not end up cringing at.
The two main characters of our tale are Paul Lombard (nee Lipman) and his daughter Starshadow who was born during Paul’s 1980s hippie renaissance period. Instead, she goes by the name Jude and, yes, Beatles lyrics are quoted at her as jokes more than once. As the story opens, we get a fast glimpse at who Jude is. She has a Nina Simone tattoo on her shoulders, seems to go through a series of one night stands (she’s rushing out the door as this one is waking up), and is late for work singing jingles in New York City. She’s also failed to make it as a singer in the Big Apple and is facing the prospect of having to move back in with her father, Paul Lombard, back in the Hamptons or, as he points out, the poor part of it since he isn’t on the ocean view side of the street.
As the movie goes on, we realize how much of a mess Jude has made of her life. She’s bitter about her father’s behavior toward her and her sister and mother as she was growing up, she’s obviously struggled with alcohol as early in the film she tries to avoid drinking it and has to remind her stepmother of that sobriety, and she’s broke. However, we also realize her messes involve an affair with a married man. The late night phone calls to him are actually some of the more poignant moments of the film, especially the first one where she’s framed as so alone and overwhelmed in the guest bedroom and then the crushing look on Jude’s face when the wife answers the house phone instead.
Basically, nothing Jude’s done in the last decade of her life at best has helped her and, at thirty-two, even she seems to realize that she needs to make something happen.
If Jude’s a mess based in failure to launch, then Paul is a bigger disaster, that cliched older star who is desperately trying to cling to his glory days. He was a crooner of lounge type music and standards, albeit about a decade or so later than the likes of the legendary Rat Pack. He hasn’t toured or had a hit record since the 1990s, and an epiphany came to him, resulting in the tune “When I Live My Life Again,” which he’s been promised by his sixth wife (yes) and management could be the thing to get him back on top.
We’re treated to the song’s performance, which, to be honest isn’t bad for the style it’s in. Walken is a song and dance man, and he nails the performance and gives just the right bit of longing and uncertainty in Paul’s unveiling of the song for Jude, her sister Corinne, and his son-in-law, Tim in the family living room. However, it’s clearly a song that’s as big an anachronism as he is, that tries to be cool in an age where Vegas lounge acts and the soft sounds of Burt Bacharach have faded into obscurity.
The movie from then on out focuses on the personality clash between Jude, as she struggles with the next steps in her life and her desire to avoid living back home with her father at all costs, and Paul as he stages his comeback opening for The Flaming Lips in New York.
So, per usual, I break down the film in my “good,” “bad,” “Bechdel” and “verdict” style.
The Good:
- The chemistry between Amber Heard and Christopher Walken is incredible: This is a twisted relationship with her torn between loving him, pitying him for the kitschy joke he’ll surely be at the concert, and despising him for his multiple affairs and drug abuse that tore her childhood apart. Yet, at the same time, the film goes out of its way to show that musical talent is not the only thing Jude and Paul share. She’s also so much like him, a concentrated mess that tends to suck other lives down with her. Heard and Walken both have a huge challenge conveying this messy dynamic but it works. Not only do you buy them as father and daughter, but you also see the nuances in their tangled relationship.
- Corinne: What could have been the flattest character, that uptight society wife and helicopter parent is actually rendered a very nuanced person as well. You can see how badly she aches to have the same gift of music that her sister and father share and how much she wishes she could be Jude. While she might be the one cleaning up for Paul, you can see that she feels, whether its true or not, that she’s never going to be his favorite, and that struggle she has carrying her duty through the pain is palpable as the film reaches its climax.
- The humor: This film is Christopher Walken as Norma Desmond, and it’s glorious. He steals every scene he’s in, and you can’t help but love Paul. Yes, he’s a womanizing, self-centered, adulterous asshole, but he’s a funny and charming one. The greatest strength to all of this is the reveal late in the film that Paul has always been in on the joke. He knows he’s a hipster kitsch throwback act, but he wants to be on stage again at any cost so he doesn’t care. Walken’s performance of faded glory and narcissism is amazing and every bit as excellent as Gloria Swanson or Bette Davis.
- Jude: We lament often about the lack of roles for women. In this case, I’d argue that Jude is even more of the lead than Paul. We’re introduced to her first and we see her leave town in the last frame. It’s her story we’re following. Moreover, we complain the women we do see are either flat or reduced to tropes. Jude’s not. She’s messy, but she grows and learns to grapple with her own ambitions and demons to an extent throughout the film. One of the best lines of the movie was “I’ve been making dumb decisions my whole life. I thought I’d try some smart ones for a change,” which are surely words to live by.
The Bad
- Lucille: The sixth wife for womanizing Paul Lombard never really elevates above the evil stepmother trope. She orders Jude around and even prompts a Cinderella crack from her stepdaughter. Even though her vindictive final plays late in the film make sense considering how painful it must have been to find out that Paul was cheating on her, but, at the same time, she never really is humanized, never seems like more than a joke and a cruel person.
- Lourdes: The maid is treated like a joke. She’s one of Paul’s many, many affairs and that revelation basically makes Jude gag when she finds out privately from her father. As the only character of color* in the film, her being the joke and one-note punchline is horrid.
- Whitewashing: During the recounting of all of Paul’s former wives, Jude explains to her father’s attorney, that she and Corinne came from Paul’s second wife, a Bolivian supermodel. While Kelli Garner and Amber Heard give great performances, I don’t understand why these characters of color are portrayed by actresses who are of Anglo descent. There are so few roles out there for Latinas, especially meaty leads like Jude. If it’s so important to their background to point out that they’re Bolivian then why are they not played by actresses of Bolivian descent?
- Tim: He almost seems like a guy take on the “manic pixie dream girl” trope and doesn’t seem essential to the plot. I feel all the background about him having been Jude’s boyfriend before he became Corinne’s husband doesn’t ever truly lead anywhere and the film doesn’t need that subplot.
The Bechdel-Wallace Test — do two women have a conversation alone that is not about men?
- Yes, this film technically passes. To be honest, there are few solo conversations between Lucile and Jude, Lucile and Corinne, or between the two sisters. While the conversations between Corinne and Lucile and Corinne and Jude eventually touch on Paul and the devastation he’s had in their lives, there is a conversation early on between Lucile and Jude that passes and helps to establish Lucile’s character.
- However, I will say the most interesting conversation in the film is between Corinne and Lucile. The latter is threatening to sue Paul now that she’s aware of the affair. She didn’t write the song, but she wants to get royalties from it as vengeance. Corinne eventually threatens to reveal Lucile’s past as a soft core actress in order to protect her father. Lucile comments that no one will care anymore and what about Paul’s affairs? To wit, Corinne counters there’s always a double standard and no one will care about his dalliances, and she’s right. That was the most stark reminder within the film overall and one deftly handled about the double standards for women especially around sex, even now.
The Verdict
This is a B grade film. It’s enjoyable with mainly nuanced characters and a woman lead we can all enjoy as she grows and makes a ton of messes along the way. Walken’s at his zany best and the ensemble works well together. However, it’s stereotypical evil stepmother character and problematic racial issues still keep this from being an A feature.
The * denotes a character of color also played by an actress of color. Corinne and Jude are Latina characters but are, unfortunately, played by white actresses.
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Thank you to the Annapolis Film Festival for their access, and we’ll be posting more reviews about everything for the rest of the week!
