|
Home Pages for
|
Margarita Happy Hour
Margarita Happy Hour êê ½ Rated
|
Reviewed by Shelley Cameron
|
 |
Girls just want to have fun
|
Eleanor Hutchins: Zelda
|
Larry Fessenden: Max
|
Holly Ramos: Natali
|
Barbara Sicuranza: Graziella
|
Directed by Ilya Chaiken
|
 |
Growing old fast, a group of twenty-something Brooklyn mothers, mostly single, meet in the afternoon to sip garishly colored, half-price margaritas and share a not-so-happy hour. Fast track women a couple of years earlier, they were spending their days and nights walking on the wild side with fellow artists, musicians and writers. This is not Woody Allen's New York. Economically marginal, avant-garde types, these young women drink too much, dress provocatively and live communally. Zelda has a two-year-old, Little Z (all the children are called by the initial of their mothers), and lives with Max in a shared apartment with a group of similar types. They strike one as types rather than characters because they seem like composites rather than complete beings.
The driving force here is change; much as they are loathe to let it come. Max is a poet who doesn't write any more and displays a quick temper that gets him into street altercations and barroom brawls. One of these frequent outbursts left a scar across Zelda's face after Max provoked a fight with some street thugs. However, he is not an evil sort and has genuine affection for Zelda; he just has most of his growing up to do. We keep getting reminded that he stayed with Zelda and her baby, although it was her choice to continue her pregnancy. Therefore, they both echo the view that the child is her responsibility.
When her old friend Natali moves in, straight out of rehab after a near fatal overdose, the tension between Zelda and Max shifts and takes on additional complexities. They are never quite sure of the boundaries for their behavior. When they do whatever they feel like doing, as in more carefree days, they feel the sting of making choices that they know should be a little more forward thinking. Zelda enjoys her child and loves Max but life seems dreary. The constant demands of Little Z and making some cash by illustrating for a porn mag leave her feeling worn out. The scar on her face leaves her feeling disproportionately damaged and no longer so audacious.
It is hard to muster much empathy for any of these people but something in the visual style has more staying power in this film than what happens or does not happen to Zelda and her friends. First time director Ilya Chaiken captures a certain authenticity in the mood she creates as the girls dish over their drinks. She is especially effective in her use of brief flashbacks as the ladies glance at the other tables and see younger versions of themselves, before the babies, having a lot more fun. We experience the underlying tautness more powerfully than we do any real identity with any of the characters. The drawn out moments that go on too long tell us more about their interior lives than the narrative, which is inevitable and predictable.
|