Cinema | August 3rd, 2024
By Greg Carlson
Writer/director/performer Kit Zauhar’s indieworld ascendancy continues its upward trajectory with sophomore feature “This Closeness,” which enjoyed a limited theatrical release this summer following a world premiere at South by Southwest in 2023. The movie is now available on streaming platform MUBI. The action unfolds in a cheap, two-bedroom apartment in Philadelphia that is being offered by Adam (Ian Edlund) as a kind of Airbnb/homestay spot at the urging of unseen ex-roommate Lance — whose very name calls his existence into question by guests Tessa (Zauhar) and Ben (Zane Pais). The project’s miniscule budget, performance style, and subject matter place “This Closeness” in the tradition of the early 2000s mumblecore movement, but Zauhar has a voice of her own.
The very best of the original wave of mumblecore movies transcended the modesty of their production resources through prickly characters and creative direction. At first glance, “This Closeness” embraces the “two people on a couch” aesthetic that inspired many novice moviemakers to produce features without formal film school training. Zauhar did major in film and television production at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts (she minored in creative writing and philosophy), but the look and feel of “This Closeness” radiate strong DIY vibes. By the time Tessa insists to Ben that “We’re all good people,” viewers will have seen enough not to believe her.
The twenty-somethings are in town to attend Ben’s high school reunion, and the journey away from home will stir up threats to their relationship that might be molehills or mountains. As Ben, Pais constructs a particularly selfish, unpleasant, and immature cad. In one very funny bit, the visitors insist on unnecessarily removing a window air-conditioner against the advice of their host. Even if we can guess the outcome, Zauhar milks our anticipation of the inevitable payoff. Soon, Ben’s shabby treatment of Tessa will be compounded by the arrival of former classmate Lizzy (Jessie Pinnick), who has agreed to be part of Tessa’s intriguing YouTube series.
Zauhar’s choice to explore Tessa’s skills as a producer of ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) clips uploaded for the consumption of online followers guides both the core themes and the technical possibilities of sound design throughout “This Closeness.” ASMR — that tingling sensation that we feel on our scalp, spine, and back of our neck that can be triggered by whispered sounds, tapping fingernails, pages being turned in a book, exhalation into a microphone, and many other auditory stimuli — functions within Zauhar’s story as a beautifully complex and multi-layered expression of the desire for intimacy, touch, and connection in a mediated, electronic device-driven world.
Zauhar’s superb attention to the audio landscape distinguishes “This Closeness” from many contemporaries, indicating a bright future for the moviemaker. Despite being light years away from the champagne shimmer of Ernst Lubitsch’s romantic, studio-based confections, “This Closeness” uses doors (and some extra-thin walls) in a way that might remind some cinephiles of the great director’s penchant for concealing and then revealing surprises. Throughout the film, the boundaries between the private and common spaces in Adam’s apartment are frequently breached right along with expectations for a certain kind of social decorum.
July 18th 2024
January 18th 2024
December 17th 2024
December 9th 2024
December 2nd 2024
By Josette Ciceronunapologeticallyanxiousme@gmail.com What does it mean to truly live in a community —or should I say, among community? It’s a question I have been wrestling with since I moved to Fargo-Moorhead in February 2022.…