"Claustrophobic"
In many ways this is just my kind of film. By that I mean 'the kind of film I would want to make, were I ever to try. I won't obviously. It is a very intense, claustrophobic vignette which is heavily reliant on dialogue and requires investment from the viewer.
The film is about our perceptions of others and of ourselves; how they are formed, how they are distorted and how inaccurate they can turn out to be. The storyline- three old friends meet up and come into conflict over an event long buried in the memory- is hardly original, some of the acting is melodramatic, some of the relationships and events implausible; but these are necessary evils to facilitate the exploration of the key themes. In an hour and twenty minutes a film cannot introduce, explore and ultimately resolve issues, draw a plausible character arc for each main player or simply tell an interesting story without reverting to clunky, wordy exposition and stagey performances. This is no time for nuance.
And so Tape sees Ethan Hawke playing a borderline sociopath, Robert Sean Leonard his staid, pretentious oldest friend and Uma Thurman a girlfriend from their mutual past. You can't see how Leonard would ever be able to tolerate the obnoxious Hawke but, as I said, you have to let these things slide. The whole thing is played out in a small (presumably bespoke) motel room which heightens the conflict by requiring constant proximity. The viewer is made to feel trapped within the room with the protagonists, like an unseen eavesdropper. The handheld cameras (there must be about thirty on the go at once!) can become extremely intrusive and, in moments of extreme tension, pans rapidly between two faces again and again like a spectator at the world's fastest tennis match. This isn't comfortable viewing. The cramped set is emphasised by Hawke's hyperactive, bundle of nervous energy performance. His naturally quite feminine mannerisms are kept to a minimum as he plays the tough-guy. He bounces around the room cutting down the space in the same way that a boxer cuts off the ring, a boorish bullying performance that doesn't really convince. Physically he's fine, but his emotional transmission is weak- especially for the first hour. Curiously, his performance picks up the less he is given to do.
Thurman and Leonard, though, are great. The theatricality of their acting would normally piss me off but in the circumstances was fine. He has probably found his niche on House M.D. now, but holds his own well here. Uma uses her could-be-ugly-but-is-actually-really-beautiful face brilliantly, she is all wide-eyed shock and arched eyebrow scorn. The harsh lighting and unflattering camerawork simply emphasises her great bones and that helps her to project the emotions she wishes to.
And so in spite of the exposition, the blatant signposting ("what's in the bag Vince?"), the An Inspector Calls/Sleuth type telegraphed twists and Hawke's comparatively weak turn, I liked it. I liked the way the audience's sympathies were subverted and questioned and I really liked the way a frantic pace was maintained in a real-time film. 6/10
