The movies subsumed under the "mumblecore" label do themselves few favors on this count. Collectively, their aesthetic and narrative choices aspire to a level of realism nearly indistinguishable from the real.
But most recent "What's Wrong With Millennials?" stories pay little heed to the distinction, offering along with questionable scientific data a host of anecdotal evidence seemingly plucked from the annals of "mumblecore." However improvisational, collaborative, or low-fi, these films are fictions. Their imagery is purposeful -- an idea of youthful ennui rather than the thing itself. To put it simply, we do not all spend the day lolling in bed like 19th-century invalids.
4. We Didn't Anoint "Mumblecore" the Voice of Our Generation. You Did.
As Amy Taubin recognized, "the flurry of festival hype and blogosphere branding" that ushered "mumblecore" into the public square distracted observers of the phenomenon from a key piece of data: the box office numbers. In the age of the Internet long tail, theatrical receipts are an imperfect barometer of popularity, but the failure of even the most successful "mumblecore" feature -- Lynn Shelton's "Humpday" (2009), which grossed about $400,000 -- to become a breakout hit is striking.
Money is not synonymous with quality. (My favorite film in the "mumblecore" universe, and possibly the most influential single movie of this century so far, is Bujalski's 2002 debut, "Funny Ha Ha." It grossed $77,000.) But in making a claim for the movement's influence on the Millennial generation, it would do to investigate whether the Millennial generation is actually watching. By and large, it seems that we are not.
5. We're Not So Different From You, After All
Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig's latest collaboration, the sleek, winsome "Frances Ha" (now in theaters), is only a kissing cousin to "mumblecore." It draws equal inspiration from the French New Wave and Woody Allen's classic pair of New York love stories, "Annie Hall" (1977) and "Manhattan" (1979). Indeed, the film's allusions to the cinema's more distant past provide a potent reminder that the frightening, joyous experience of being young, single, and bohemian, as in Truffaut's World War I-era "Jules et Jim" (1962), has not changed as much as some commentators would like us to think.
"Frances Ha," better than any "Milennials" essay you're likely to read, suggests that seeing "mumblecore" or "Millennials" as more self-absorbed, difficult, or directionless than their respective forebears is a problem of perspective. The film successfully crystallizes modern almost-adulthood because it refuses to make Frances the voice of her generation. Like Hannah Horvath in "Girls," Frances is only "a voice of a generation," and that's just fine.