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The digital paint hasn't even dried on Richard Linklater's animated
feature Waking
Life, but as if to prove he's no slacker, the director already has a new film in
theaters. Like Waking Life, Tape
was shot on low-rent digital video, but visually the two pictures couldn't be more
different. While Life's video image was layered with stunning
computer-generated graphics in post-production, Tape
looks as if it's been soaking in formaldehyde on a dark closet shelf for six months. In this case, however, the murky visuals are an
apt match for the squalid setting and narrative ambiguities.
Based on a
stage play by Stephen Belber, Tape takes place
entirely inside one cramped, dingy motel room at the Motor Palace in Lansing, Michigan. The room has been rented by Vince (Ethan Hawke),
in town for the Lansing Film Festival, in which the directorial debut of his old high
school chum Johnny (Robert Sean Leonard) is slated to premiere. When Johnny stops by to pick Vince up for dinner,
he is slowly drawn into a confrontational mind game with his longtime friend. Vince, a volunteer fire fighter and full-time dope
dealer, has already fueled up on beer and marijuana, and urges John to do the same as they
spar over their divergent worldviews. The
conversation turns to Amy (Uma Thurman), Vince's high school sweetheart, who dumped him
only to hook up with Johnny towards the end of their senior year. Vince probes and cajoles his friend until Johnny
blurts out what Vince has been dying to hear for ten years - that his fling with Amy was
at best "coerced" and at worst, date rape.
Then comes the sucker punch. Vince
reveals that he has surreptitiously recorded their entire conversation, including Johnny's
confession. Worse yet for Johnny, Amy is on
her way over to the motel, having also been invited to dinner by Vince. Vince plans to play the tape for Amy unless Johnny
apologizes for his actions a decade earlier. To
reveal what happens from this point on would be unsporting; suffice it to say that Amy
does eventually show up, along with her own set of tantalizing revelations.
In its intimacy, intensity and table-turning sexual politics, Tape is reminiscent of David Mamet's Oleanna (also a
play-turned-film). Both works toy with the
ambiguity of memory and the futility of determining whose recollections equate to the
correct interpretation of events. But the
most surprising thing about Linklater's film, given the plot description and grimy
Dogme-influenced method, is how funny so much of it is.
In the self-absorbed, emotionally immature jerk Vince, Ethan Hawke has found the
role he was born to play. He's a thoroughly
insufferable presence, which is precisely what is required.
Anyone with an idiot friend who just can't seem to be dislodged will identify with
Robert Sean Leonard's exasperation. And Uma
Thurman gives what may be her best performance to date; she's continually one step ahead
of both her co-stars and the audience, and negotiates the trickiest emotional turns along
the way.
Tape has a cumulative power -
it's slow to get going, and those with little patience for Linklater's all-talk/no-action
aesthetic may resign themselves to a dreary slog without realizing that the narrative is
already gathering momentum. Stick with it. The movie's look may be drab, but its rewards are
anything but.
- Scott Von Doviak