Revolution #9 (2001)
Review by Dindrane
Film:
DVD:

Written and Directed by Tim McCann
Starring Michael Risley, Adrienne Shelly, Spalding Gray, and Callie Thorne

Features:

• Running audio commentary with writer/director McCann, actors Shelly and Risley
  
• Two bonus short films
  
• Trailers
  
• Weblinks
  

Released by: Wellspring
Region: 1
Rating: NR
Anamorphic: Yes

My Advice: Erase it from your memory

The depiction of madness is a favorite subject for many film directors. There's classic examples such as the many unstable personalities in Hitchcock’s films, or more recently Brad Pitt’s character in Twelve Monkeys. Revolution #9 wants to play in that playground, but simply can't hang.

The problem here is not the acting. The actors do a great job with what they are given. Even the camera work is well-done, if a bit heavy-handed in places; the additional graininess of the scenes showing the protagonist is a wonderful touch. Unfortunately, this film plays like nothing more than a film school project gotten out of hand. The lack of continuity and gaping plot holes do more to irritate the reader and lose the emotional punch of the film than to allow us to experience the slide into madness alongside the main character. The pretension is so thick in this movie that you can cut it with a knife; instead of being a taut, life-changing, effective portrayal of a serious situation, it screams out "look at me! I can play with filters and camera angles! Whee!" This is particularly a shame as the director, in the commentary, reveals that he is seriously worried about the mental health care system in America; would that his film did more to help than it does. Compare this film, for example, to the spare, gripping genius of Closetland.

Another issue here is with the characters. The difficulty of dealing with schizophrenics is depicted decently enough as the protagonist refuses help and meds, but that’s it. There are no truly sympathetic characters in the film, with the possible exception of the girl, and the end message has less to do with the necessity of revamping the mental health system than of blowing up all humans--a bit like using a bazooka to kill roaches, if you ask me. The roommate is a bitch, the girlfriend’s boss and coworkers are morons and painful to look at, her family is horrible and each has issues of their own, and the girlfriend herself, while well acted, is written in such a way that she’s nothing but an unwise ball of denial. You may not be expected to like anyone in the film, but wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t loathe them all? Or maybe if you could even care about their plight and have some sympathy for them, some pathos?

The features list is spare, but good. The commentary with the director and the two principal actors is really little more than nearly two hours of the director complaining about how the mentally ill are treated in this country, which, while a legitimate concern, sheds little light on the filmmaking process itself. It tells us why he made this film, sure, but McCann should have been addressed this right off and then moved on. The less said about the bonus shorts, the better. If you’ve ever wondered if film school geeks really care more about their narcissistic need to show how avant garde they are than they do about actual storytelling or expression of something, then this film will not prove you wrong, and the shorts will make you cackle with triumphant glee.

Overall, after watching this film, you will indeed feel as if you have been dragged through pain, paranoia, and tedium--but not for the reasons the director intended, and this is such as shame. If you want to see what film school geeks like to congratulate each other about, even if the message is thoroughly lost, there’s no delicacy of portrayal, and only the acting saves this film from being a horror movie of sorts, then by all means, watch this. But if you watch the abysmal shorts, then I wash my hands of you forever. You have been warned.