Putty Hill does so much with the first three elements to immerse you in the documentary-like authenticity of its world. But the film tears its own fabric of verisimilitude in scenes where Porterfield spontaneously interviews the characters, asking them questions from offscreen. Matt Porterfield is as much a member of this community, and a character in the film, as those on screen in 'Putty Hill.' These interviews are a paradox: They break the film’s documentary realism by making its format a subject in itself.
One might worry that such a strategy would reek of arty self-consciousness, but there’s something genuine about it, because it puts Porterfield’s relationship with his characters front and center. Porterfield spent a long time working with each of these nonprofessionals, asking them questions to help them develop their characters, mixing their real life experiences and fictional inventions. These scenes are both the outcome and an acknowledgment of that process. What it reveals about Porterfield is that he is not just a director of these subjects, but a confidante. In other words, he is as much a member of this community, and a character in his film, as those on screen.
You can already see this questioning approach in Porterfield’s first film Hamilton. The majority of the dialogue consists of questions and responses. By my count there are 65 questions asked in this 65-minute film. Even the rap song featured in a key scene is full of questions. Hamilton seemingly has the objective surface of an observational documentary, but when you listen to these dialogue scenes, you can practically hear Porterfield’s voice from Putty Hill in each conversation in Hamilton. Porterfield’s world shows everyday life as an investigative documentary, with people constantly interrogating each other, seeking answers.
Is there an underlying significance to all these questions? Both films deal with the ripple effect on a community caused by a private trauma. In Hamilton, it’s a teen pregnancy; in Putty Hill it’s a suicide. In most films, asking questions would serve to explore these incidents and lead towards a dramatic resolution. Here, the questions themselves are the drama: a constant effort to reach out and stay connected. The more questions are asked, the more they suggest how vulnerable these relationship are, and how strong the desire is to hold them together. In Porterfield’s films, the story is less important than exploring the community in which it takes place, and what’s at stake in preserving it.
Originally published on Fandor
Kevin B. Lee is Editor in Chief of IndieWire’s PressPlay Video Blog, Video Essayist for Fandor Keyframe, and contributor to Roger Ebert.com. Follow him on Twitter..
RT @ThePlaylist: Zach Galifianakis Ruins Your Day By Suggesting Mr. Chow-Centric 'Hangover' Spin-Off, Plus New TV Spot http://t.co/6tugJ0INhP
Posted 3 hours ago
RT @RevChrisStangl: Crispin Glover's entire career has basically been an elaboration on the dance he did in FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE FINAL CHAPTER.
Posted 3 hours ago
RT @Slant_Magazine: #EPIC is something close to an animated masterpiece...provided it's watched on mute. http://t.co/QvbmRjtq5i via @Slant_Magazine
Posted 3 hours ago
RT @Slant_Magazine: Enter to win a DVD of #GregoryCrewdsonBriefEncounters, courtesy of @ZeitgeistFilms! http://t.co/d3zKR05FiP via @Slant_Magazine
Posted 3 hours ago
0 Comments