The first feature film by writer/director Dylan Kidd catapults him into a forefront of what is, sadly, a very vacuous arena of relevant contemporary American filmmakers. The multitudes of talent displayed in his ostensibly simple first feature herald a volcano whose next eruption we can but eagerly anticipate.
Free from the formulaic constraints of Holywood three-act structure, this open-ended yet cohesive film has the probing ingredients of John Cassavetes' indie films, the biting sarcasm of early Neil LeButt and an ear for dialogue that is at times Woody Allen, at times Kevin Smith. More importantly, Dylan Kidd joins Paul Thomas Anderson and Todd Solondz in a small group of filmmakers who have authentic artistic integrity and courage to employ it where matters.
If recently released 'About a Boy' was made by an inquisitive French existentialist it would, inevitably, feel a lot like 'Roger Dodger'.
Categorized by mainstream critics as either comedy or romantic comedy, this is in fact a dark and biting urban drama. In a tour-de-force, career-boosting performance, Campbell Scott plays Roger, a tormented Manhattan advertising copyright permanently torn by his dichotomous love/hate relationship with women. Smooth-talker (as a boy he could talk his way out of any jam - hence his nickname 'Dodger'), he seems to be forever entrenched in a bloody battle against the (dis)order of things in the gender warfare. Mostly he is disturbed by what he sees as inevitable disappearance of male dominance and emerging female superiority. As a result of technological advances in the field of artificial insemination, he foresees a doomsday scenario of complete male subordination to ever-increasing female self-sufficiency.
Roger's disdain for women is only matched by his disdain for his profession. As he is quite successful in both fields, those two negative passions form the core of his misogynist personality. He is unwilling to come to terms with neither moral hypocrisy of his profession nor with the takeover by women of what have traditionally been exclusively male domains. He is a rebel of sorts, a verbose Don Quixotian figure with razor-sharp, foul-mouthed sarcasm as his deadly weapon.
When Roger's teenage nephew unexpectedly burst into his office and his life, a Pandora box of unresolved issues and unpleasant memories is unleashed.
Roger's nephew, Nick, is adroitly played by young Jesse Eisenberg. An archetypical American 16-year-old, Nick lives in sex-saturated, advertising-soaked culture where omnipresence of sex can hardly substitute for the lack of an adequate rite of passage into adulthood. Equally intrigued and encouraged by his uncles' notoriety as a lady's man, Nick turns up at Roger's Manhattan's Advertising Agency. The unannounced visit is a cry for help of an over-anxious, testosterone-driven and disoriented adolescent.
Nick and Roger's ensuing one-night escapade through the urban jungle of hip Manhattan's bars and after-hours sex-clubs is a slight but telling critique of our crude, insensitive and destructive methodology of male sexual initiation. In a climatic scene at a classy sex-club, Roger violently intervenes just when Nick is about to achieve what Roger sets out as their goal for the night - Nick's lost of virginity. In a sudden detour, Roger interrupts what was to be Nick's first sexual encounter with a cold, insensitive hooker. His abrupt change-of-hearts stems from his deep-seeded resentment he hopes Nick could be spared from. The movie's very last scene reveals what he wishes for Nick, and what he apparently never had - a sweet, innocent girl, an authentic romance. The last thing Roger wants for Nick is for him to grow up to be a disillusioned, bitter grown-up he has become.
On the other hand, the movie is a thinly disguised study of arrested development, emotional alienation and looming threats of growing up in advertising-tainted modern society. The choice of Roger's profession is nothing but intentional. It is, in fact, the cornerstone of the movie's dialectic. "I think of ways to make people feel bad," Roger says of his work.
Indeed, we live in an age where advertising is around-the-clock image-maker. Unfortunately, it carries the message "You're not okay the way you are." We are measured with external yardsticks and seduced into believing that the images projected at us are really who we should be. We can "get" okay, if we buy the right kind of car, wear the latest designer jeans, live in the better house, hang out at the right places. Rape of the psyche. Violation of the spirit. We are permanently scarred with arrested development and immaturity (Roger still harbors resentment and animosity towards his recently deceased father).
The psychological damages are particularly devastating to a young person entering adulthood. Adolescence is when we are most impressionable. As we mature we develop our own capacities to reason and think independently. Lies begin to unfold. Where does the adolescent turn for a new role model? How does he learn to be an adult? Resentment, anger, and frustration are born towards those who have presented an overly simplistic story, trying to protect us - parents, teachers, authority in general (Nick does not seem to be close to his father. He lives with his mother who is separated from her husband).
In supporting roles, movie's ladies - Isabella Rossellini, Elizabeth Berkley and Jennifer Beals - are utterly convincing.
The wobbly, hand-held cameras give 'Roger Dodger' a murky feel that is reminiscent of a Dogma-school of film-making. The movie is not easy to watch and requires a commitment from a viewer. The probing camera gives movie its intended tone - edgy, analytical and uncompromising.
Free from the formulaic constraints of Holywood three-act structure, this open-ended yet cohesive film has the probing ingredients of John Cassavetes' indie films, the biting sarcasm of early Neil LeButt and an ear for dialogue that is at times Woody Allen, at times Kevin Smith. More importantly, Dylan Kidd joins Paul Thomas Anderson and Todd Solondz in a small group of filmmakers who have authentic artistic integrity and courage to employ it where matters.
If recently released 'About a Boy' was made by an inquisitive French existentialist it would, inevitably, feel a lot like 'Roger Dodger'.
Categorized by mainstream critics as either comedy or romantic comedy, this is in fact a dark and biting urban drama. In a tour-de-force, career-boosting performance, Campbell Scott plays Roger, a tormented Manhattan advertising copyright permanently torn by his dichotomous love/hate relationship with women. Smooth-talker (as a boy he could talk his way out of any jam - hence his nickname 'Dodger'), he seems to be forever entrenched in a bloody battle against the (dis)order of things in the gender warfare. Mostly he is disturbed by what he sees as inevitable disappearance of male dominance and emerging female superiority. As a result of technological advances in the field of artificial insemination, he foresees a doomsday scenario of complete male subordination to ever-increasing female self-sufficiency.
Roger's disdain for women is only matched by his disdain for his profession. As he is quite successful in both fields, those two negative passions form the core of his misogynist personality. He is unwilling to come to terms with neither moral hypocrisy of his profession nor with the takeover by women of what have traditionally been exclusively male domains. He is a rebel of sorts, a verbose Don Quixotian figure with razor-sharp, foul-mouthed sarcasm as his deadly weapon.
When Roger's teenage nephew unexpectedly burst into his office and his life, a Pandora box of unresolved issues and unpleasant memories is unleashed.
Roger's nephew, Nick, is adroitly played by young Jesse Eisenberg. An archetypical American 16-year-old, Nick lives in sex-saturated, advertising-soaked culture where omnipresence of sex can hardly substitute for the lack of an adequate rite of passage into adulthood. Equally intrigued and encouraged by his uncles' notoriety as a lady's man, Nick turns up at Roger's Manhattan's Advertising Agency. The unannounced visit is a cry for help of an over-anxious, testosterone-driven and disoriented adolescent.
Nick and Roger's ensuing one-night escapade through the urban jungle of hip Manhattan's bars and after-hours sex-clubs is a slight but telling critique of our crude, insensitive and destructive methodology of male sexual initiation. In a climatic scene at a classy sex-club, Roger violently intervenes just when Nick is about to achieve what Roger sets out as their goal for the night - Nick's lost of virginity. In a sudden detour, Roger interrupts what was to be Nick's first sexual encounter with a cold, insensitive hooker. His abrupt change-of-hearts stems from his deep-seeded resentment he hopes Nick could be spared from. The movie's very last scene reveals what he wishes for Nick, and what he apparently never had - a sweet, innocent girl, an authentic romance. The last thing Roger wants for Nick is for him to grow up to be a disillusioned, bitter grown-up he has become.
On the other hand, the movie is a thinly disguised study of arrested development, emotional alienation and looming threats of growing up in advertising-tainted modern society. The choice of Roger's profession is nothing but intentional. It is, in fact, the cornerstone of the movie's dialectic. "I think of ways to make people feel bad," Roger says of his work.
Indeed, we live in an age where advertising is around-the-clock image-maker. Unfortunately, it carries the message "You're not okay the way you are." We are measured with external yardsticks and seduced into believing that the images projected at us are really who we should be. We can "get" okay, if we buy the right kind of car, wear the latest designer jeans, live in the better house, hang out at the right places. Rape of the psyche. Violation of the spirit. We are permanently scarred with arrested development and immaturity (Roger still harbors resentment and animosity towards his recently deceased father).
The psychological damages are particularly devastating to a young person entering adulthood. Adolescence is when we are most impressionable. As we mature we develop our own capacities to reason and think independently. Lies begin to unfold. Where does the adolescent turn for a new role model? How does he learn to be an adult? Resentment, anger, and frustration are born towards those who have presented an overly simplistic story, trying to protect us - parents, teachers, authority in general (Nick does not seem to be close to his father. He lives with his mother who is separated from her husband).
In supporting roles, movie's ladies - Isabella Rossellini, Elizabeth Berkley and Jennifer Beals - are utterly convincing.
The wobbly, hand-held cameras give 'Roger Dodger' a murky feel that is reminiscent of a Dogma-school of film-making. The movie is not easy to watch and requires a commitment from a viewer. The probing camera gives movie its intended tone - edgy, analytical and uncompromising.