Tribeca Review: There There

Experimental film can go any which way. Andrew Bujalski’s There There (his follow-up to 2018’s irresistible indie Support the Girls) falls firmly into a showcase for a gimmick. In the film, no two actors ever share the screen together, and the cinematography isn’t much more distinguished than the capabilities of video chat program Zoom. The kicker? There’s barely any illusion here. Two characters supposed to be lying in bed together aren’t just lit differently, it’s obvious that they’re in different rooms. This acts as a test to see if a scene can work while breaking most of the rules of filmmaking all at once. That answer, of course, lies in the strength of the script. For There There, it’s hit or miss.

The film features a collection of loosely connected characters, two of which share the screen at a time for a roughly 15-minute conversation before a cheeky musical interlude moves us into the next scene. As with any series of vignettes, some are better than others.

Bujalski’s script focuses heavily on dialogue and chemistry. The opening vignette sees a middle-aged woman (Lili Taylor) wake up at a similarly aged man’s (Lennie James) apartment. This sequence is the closest There There gets to making you believe what’s happening is actually happening simply because Taylor and James seemingly share an undeniable chemistry, even if both actors are acting at a screen (who knows if even with each other or on the same day). But they are both charmers, and the actors nails their short individual monologues to get you there even as it becomes clear that this is not a traditionally filmed scene.

Other scenes are funny. Others drag and drag. The most frustrating sees a lawyer (Jason Schwartzman) trying to prepare his client (Avi Nash), the creator of a website that happens to include pornography, for any potential legal fallout. The next, in which Schwartzman’s character faces the ghost of a relative (Roy Nathanson), is much more vibrant and interesting.

At its worst, There There is slow and meandering. At its best, however, humanity peaks through and these small stories pack a punch. In each story there is misunderstanding and conflict. Rarely are the two people “sharing” the scene on the same page about much of anything. And therein lies the point. Bujalski isn’t merely playing with the form, he’s making a statement on modern loneliness and all the startling and sad ways it takes shape. The success with which he makes these statements is just constantly in flux.

Still, he finds a near-perfect note to end on, bringing multiple, though not all, plot threads full-circle. This 90-minute tour of these characters’ hearts and souls and how they intersect, be it importantly or unimportantly, will make you laugh and reflect on your own experiences in equal measure. It just also has the unfortunate quality of occasionally being a bore. But with an experiment this brazen, and with such devotion to it from its creator, There There is undoubtedly worth the curious filmgoer’s attention.