Neither Jeremy LaLonde nor Jonas Chernick seems to care about simple concepts: their first feature as a team, James vs His Future Self, was a high-concept rom-com about a man stuck in a rut while trying to invent time travel. It featured Chernick as James and Daniel Stern as Future James, two men (or one-man technically) trying to figure out a world that doesn’t make much sense to them while also navigating that impossibly complicated thing called love.
It was a fun, lively movie that refused to take itself too seriously, eschewing the usual technical complexities which mar most sci-fi projects, and instead of finding the genuine heart and humanity amidst the complicated concept itself.
For their follow-up feature, LaLonde and Chernick have gone much the same route, albeit with a much different tone. While it may not be a comedy, nor does it utilise Chernick‘s laidback-everyman charm, Ashgrove still manages to find the heart and humanity of its subjects in the backdrop of high-concept drama. It shows the team going from strength to strength as they tackle weightier subjects, all the while keeping the drama grounded in very real, very human emotions.
Pandemic
After a pandemic has ravaged the world’s global water supply, time is running out for the human race. Water is quickly becoming too toxic to consume and soon all life on earth will perish. The weight of the world rests on Jennifer (Amanda Brugel), a top scientist who is on the brink of a solution to reverse the problem. The stress begins to affect her, however, and she passes out from exhaustion. Ordered by a doctor to take some rest, lest she burn herself out, Jennifer and her husband Jason (Chernick) retreat to their farm Ashgrove in the countryside for the weekend so that Jennifer can unwind.
As they cook, kayak, and hang out with friends, though, Jennifer begins to suspect something isn’t right. Why does Jason insist on micromanaging absolutely everything, down to what food they eat? Who are the strange phone calls he makes to? What are these strange images plaguing her? As Jennifer’s marriage to Jason begins showing cracks, Jennifer begins to realise not everything is what she thinks it is.
Perhaps Ashgrove‘s biggest boon is in Amanda Brugel. As Jennifer, Brugel has easily the heaviest lifting to do. Jennifer is a woman under an immense amount of stress, knowing she alone may be responsible for the fate of the world. She is a workaholic, but miserable and depressed. Coupled with this is her fracturing relationship with Jason, which she feels unable to fix at a time when she is trying to literally save humanity. Brugel is great at displaying the emotional toll on Jennifer, seemingly dragging herself through scenes, while also allowing poignant moments to come through which show Jennifer’s softer side, such as a cute outdoor scene involving a ukulele and a hammock.
Chernick has less to do, although what he does he does well. Jason is the polar opposite of James: he has his moments of quirkiness, which you feel Chernick could do in his sleep, but ultimately that natural charm is smothered in service of a character who is, himself, under a lot of pressure. Jason feels the absence of his wife keenly, and he has secrets of his own he’s trying to keep. All of this is written across Chernick‘s face throughout and although his part is much more muted, Chernick proves himself effective when called upon.
Chemistry
The chemistry between Chernick and Brugel isn’t quite there, though. It’s hard to get a sense of their relationship from their interactions or understand why they got together in the first place. Perhaps more time could have been given over to exploring this, as it’s difficult to become invested in their relationship and its eventual outcome if we aren’t given any reason to believe it even should survive. Natural moments between the couple feel few and far between – with the standout being the aforementioned ukulele scene. These aren’t enough, however, to paint a convincing picture of a couple who love each other to fight for their marriage at all costs.
Plot-wise, Ashgrove tends to meander, but you get the sense that’s the point. Throughout the weekend of the couple’s getaway, we see plenty of snippets of their life together, all shot with a cold, clinical eye by LaLonde. We aren’t meant to believe we’re seeing the nostalgic moments of a happy couple, but rather something deeper, more calculated. It creates something of a jarring effect: while we are presented with scenes from a marriage, there is always an underlying tension that there’s something much more going on beneath the surface. There’s a feeling of disparate elements coming together and not quite meshing as well as they could. While James vs His Future Self was able to ground its concept in affable comedy – using as its anchor a very relatable character with a very relatable problem – Ashgrove doesn’t have that same pillar to lean on: the stakes are as high as they can possibly be, and one might wonder why this couple is arguing about their favourite foods when one of them is the key to stopping the extinction of humanity.
Conclusion
Still, what’s admirable about LaLonde and Chernick – as much here as with James – is their ability to find the most human elements of a concept and highlight those. Ultimately, Ashgrove is about a husband and wife trying to find each other again, trying to learn how to love each other again. While it doesn’t always tie its themes together in a satisfying way, Ashgrove still manages to dig behind the veneer of its story and ask a compelling question about love and commitment.
Ashgrove is showing as part of the Glasgow Film Festival 2022
Watch Ashgrove
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