Angel

Angel
Directed by Andrew Salter

Viewer cynicism isn't disarmed by the story and themes of Angel, but its attempt is admirable all the same. Movies this earnest and good-natured are rare in the community. I can imagine the horror of this same material being done by someone like Jeremy Dick or Dave Smith, or one of the subversive community jesters like Jason Ruiz in one of his sketch movie binges. But Andrew plays it straight, and the tricky subject matter of racial tensions in the south in the 1950s is handled with an innocence and soberness that avoids the pitfalls associated with tone in 3DMM dramas; that insecurity about the subject matter that peeks through in the form of inconsistent characterization or even self-parody in movies like Shit Happens. I thought of Shit Happens twice here, once in the first Angel meeting scene, and again at the reverend's cabin; the movies are similar in that Salter and Ching both tried to tell a story that was beyond their cinematic ability and at times their writing ability, but from time to time and in unspecific ways succeeds. Salter fares better overall, but the ultimate feeling I walked away with was mild interest, not one of really being moved by what happens.

Still, the obvious ambition of the film is admirable, and it's unique in a way that only first releases seem to manage. It sounds amusing to say that a novice director is untainted by the community, but it often happens that after a month or two on the board, their outlook on the way films are made and received changes dramatically, and the improved skill and cinematic mentality is often accompanied by a loss of some of the uniqueness of their first film. The 3DMM community is a cynical place, and when I see a movie this different from the usual fare, coming from such earnest and unexplored directions, I worry that the director's unique take on films will fade as he picks up the kind of "mainstream" projects everyone anticipates. Angel is the kind of film that could only be a first release, but even with that "first release" feel, you can tell that there's something very different from other 3DMM projects at work here.

Set in Lousiana in 1951, the movie follows the journey of a boy named Junior, who's friends with most of the black citizens in the Bayou. The scenes are built out of assortments of early v3dmm objects, which you'd assume would be overused by now, but the lack of real v3dmm films and a mostly well-established setting design actually give them a unique feel. They fit well together and plausibly come across as a Louisiana bayou; it's clear that without them, the movie would not have been able to create the correct atmosphere for its setting. We drift between river and grimy mountainous settings and the surreal angelic settings that you're never sure are real or just hallucinations. Junior is contacted by an angel, who observes the significance of this point in history and assigns a mission for him. The plot flows along on shaky ground, and the romance subplot almost seems a little creepy, but the themes of the film are unwavering, a throughline through which even an less-than-realistic resolution can emerge without feeling too hokey.

The confrontation with the KKK seems the most implausible scene in the movie for most people. On the first testview, I pointed out to Andrew how unlikely the idealistic wrapup is, especially as the film's final revelation. My suggestion was to extend the silence at the end, stretch out the tension and make the victory more uncertain. This helped quite a bit, although not tremendously. The resolution still stinks of being too easy, not quite hitting the right note of hope and feeling a little false. Would it have been possible to have this ending and construct it in a way that come across as realistic? It's hard to say, but that's more down to the subhuman nature of the Klan than Andrew's writing. He was not writing a tragedy, but an old-fashioned fable about standing up against an evil you know you're powerless against. It's uncertain whether the melancholy mood that permeates the film helps or hurts this message, and the angel scenes muddy the waters more than they should.

Logically, realistically, and cynically, Angel withers in many ways under its own premise. But there are ways in which it really impressed me. Being consistently true to its principles is one thing, but it also puts forth a certain charisma that at times holds the movie together far better than you'd imagine at first glance. Andrew also makes up for choppy, uncertain animation by at least attempting some really powerful cinematic moments with advanced camerawork. A few shots only work on the level that you recognize the attempt, but more actually manage to make you feel something. And something about the way scenes kind of disappeared into the void and seemed sloppily sewn together created a noticable style; a little more effort and the movie would have been worse for the failed attempt, so Andrew creates the atmosphere of doing the best he can with his limited skill. Overall, patchy or no, he pushes himself as far as he can, and there's a real sense that he gave it all the care he was capable of, not that it was haphazardly slapped together. And a few shots and effects really surprised me.

Angel comes across as uneven and a little slipshodden, but it's definitely a labor of love, and despite every misstep and false note, there's something poignant holding the whole thing together. It may be a little rickety, but it's not for any lack of spirit.

Critical Score: 59/100.
Personal Score: 70/100.