Weekend Movies: Five Reasons to Watch Time Lapse
Shout out to my wonderful, patient friend Wes (HI WES!), who suggested Bradley D. King’s 2014 film Time Lapse. As in, months ago. That became a running joke with us, that would go something like this:
Wes (typing sweetly): “I see you haven’t
covered Time Lapse yet.”
Me (slob in longue pants): “Next few weeks. I
|Time travel – with pictures!|
Writers go through it. Painters go through it. Photographers go through it. It sucks, and there’s no real way around it. You just have to work through it, as unpleasant as it is. This one manages to take the subject and place emphasis on how much it silently impacts the artist. In the first five minutes of the film, we can see how much a creative block is bothering Finn. O’Leary does a great job with conveying this; it’s simply something you need to see, if only to get how much it can suck to be an artist (or writer, or photographer, or musician) sometimes.
There are some time travel films that require a map, a graph, several pie charts and a few beers in order to understand. Case in point: Shane Carruth’s Primer, which, while incredible to the point of calling it extraordinary, is exceedingly difficult to process in just one unassisted go. Time Lapse is approachable in that the concept is simple: machine takes a picture 24 hours in advance, and you can’t change the events without risking doom. Boom. Explained.
|Way easier to get then Primer.|
Too often, we get to see the usual suspects of addiction: drugs and alcohol. Sometimes, we even get sex thrown in there as well. One that’s not done in film as often is the addiction to gambling, in part because it’s not as seedy as the others. There’s nothing sexy about sitting around watching a guy yell and scream at a T.V. screen (You: “But Erin, don’t you date gamers?” Me: “Quiet you. That’s different.”). If you’ve ever known gambler, you’ll know that it’s just as much of a struggle to not place a bet as it is for an alcoholic to walk past a bottle of Jameson. We get to see the self-loathing and acceptance as well as the lack of change. It’s subtle, but it’s a piece of the addiction pie that still needs some attention. Just because it isn’t a chemical substance doesn’t mean it’s not a valid addiction that requires study and compassion.
Callie and Finn are in a relationship. It’s a poor one at that. You know what’s sad sometimes? Watching one person try to make an entire relationship work on their own. Making meals, sweet gestures, the painful glances. I wanted her to dump him so badly I could taste it, which says a lot for the filmmakers if you’re getting a perpetual optimist like me to yell, “DTMFA!” (For those of you unfamiliar with Dan Savage, that’s “dump the motherfucker already.”) If you’ve ever been in Callie’s shoes, it will be a bit difficult to watch; however, the portrait is accurate.
Part of why I like time travel films so much are the questions it asks of the audience members’ personal limits. The big one: if you could look into the future, would you? Are you worried about what that says about you? Would you want to ensure that the future you see happens in order to prevent unpleasant effects, and do those side effects even exist? Is it all really inevitable, and are we better off not knowing? Food for thought.
|Totally suspicious. And lots of fun.|