GUEST REVIEW BY CHRIS WATT
The cinematic hat trick of the single long take has become a talking point of late, due in no small measure to the success of Sam Mendes’ war epic 1917. Many film makers favour the long take. Altman, Scorsese, Cuaron, the list goes on and on.
In recent memory, the unbroken take has become something of a film making genre all its own, with films such as Birdman, Climax and Victoria taking their cue from the aesthetic first attempted by Russian Ark back in the early days of digital film, often to great praise, although let it be known that within all of those films many cinematic tricks help them along and only a few have truly succeeded without at least one edit or six.
And so, into the conversation comes Last Call, Gavin Michael Booth’s micro-budget drama about lost souls and found saviours. Booth’s film incorporates a masterful use of split screen, giving us two very different perspectives on the same moment, and each moment is shot, simultaneously, in one take, in different parts of the city of Windsor, Ontario.
Focusing on two characters, the screenplay (by Booth and his leading man Daved Wilkins) tells the story of Scott (Wilkins), a haunted, broken man who has hit rock bottom, and Beth (Sarah Booth), a night janitor in a building on the other side of town. In utter desperation, and after a hard nights drinking, Scott phones a suicide hotline number, only to find the call going through to a career centre, the very building Beth is cleaning. When Beth answers the phone, the two become locked into a conversation that neither knows how to stop or where it will end.
To reveal much more would, arguably, spoil many of the films key dramatic revelations (and there are many) but it’s a gripping premise and complemented by two terrific performances.
Wilkins invites empathy, but is hard on his character (“Men are sometimes pre-programmed to disappoint” as he puts it) giving us an unsentimental portrait of a deeply flawed and achingly human man whose past mistakes and, more crucially, regrets, are both shocking and relatable. In what could so easily be a character who is merely victim, Wilkins gives an undercurrent of edge to his performance, that builds in intensity as the story progresses.
The counterpoint to all of this is Booth’s wonderfully controlled portrait of Beth. Given the harder task of listening to someone else’s story, Booth paints her part with gestures and her expressive eyes. An actor who clearly knows how to move for a camera, she holds the attention during many of the films more intense scenes and conveys a subtle shift of emotional gears, often at moments you wouldn’t expect and yet, the film is also careful enough to not simply paint her as the angel on Scott’s shoulder. She has her own sub-plot to deal with, involving her son, a fine counterpoint to Scott’s personal issues, adding a layer of serendipity, even cruel fate, to their dynamic. This is a portrait of a real woman in a situation beyond her control and as the desperation intensifies, so too does Booth’s performance. She feels utterly real.
The actors performances are well served by their director, who knows exactly when to bring his camera close to their pain and when to back away, every subtle movement timed precisely and, indeed, the sheer commitment to the material and its stylistic choices, sweeps you away. It’s a ride, both emotionally and cinematically.
Comparisons could be made with Mike Figgis’ Timecode, a film that utilised newly available digital tape to create four stories, in four separate screens at the same time. However, technical dexterity aside, Figgis’ film could never quite get away from the sheer amount of information being hurled at the viewer and lost both focus and engagement.
Last Call succeeds mainly because the film maker knows how to use the medium to best tell his story. The script is tight enough that it would work just as well shot in a traditional narrative. What the split screen adds is connection between the characters. What the one take adds is a visual interpretation of the tension felt between the two, locked in this terrible situation. The real genius behind the technique is that the story is so gripping and the actors so committed, you forget the split screen is even there, the film unconsciously allowing the viewer to become the editor, deciding who they should be focused on at any given time.
True interactive cinema without the need for 3D or 4DX.
Make no mistake, this is a film that is unafraid to punch hard. And while hope exists in the form of Beth’s patience and resilience, it is just as often suppressed by Scott’s ever developing backstory, which at one point comes in the form of him reading a letter from his daughter, a stunning scene, with an incredible mis-direction, which will send your emotional radar bouncing off in directions you didn’t expect.
Booth’s cinematographer, Seth Wessel-Estes, pulls off a master stroke in terms of lighting. There is so much glass in this picture, you will marvel at the fact that you never once see the crews reflection somewhere in there and on a second and third viewing (for the film rewards revisiting) it becomes more evident just how skilfully planned this picture was.
To achieve a film this impressive, that depends on such precision, and yet cost less than many studio catering budgets, is proof again, if proof were ever needed, that money will only get you so far, but story will carry you all the way.
Last Call is that wonderful surprise that emerges every couple of years. A film that grips, informs and moves in equal measure. A film that reminds you that what we find most relatable in cinema is each other.
Drama over spectacle.
Talent over budget.
Make that call.
