MISTRESS AMERICA: A Partially Successful Attempt at a Modern Screwball Comedy
Alistair is a 25 year old writer based in Cambridge.…
Director Noah Baumbach has become synonymous with “hipster cinema”- which in his case, means character studies of self-obsessed, over-privileged big city dwellers, who he tends to love, even if audience members are more likely to find their company unwelcoming. Yet he is a far more complicated director than that; weirdly, in his most recent movies, he’s been rationing out the abrasive commentary of the hipster community (the raging members of Generation X and the fresh-faced millennials) with something approaching empathetic humanism. His previous film, While We’re Young, was the most empathetic portrayal of hipster culture we are ever likely to see in modern cinema – something even the sharp left turn into trademark Baumbach cynicism in the film’s third act couldn’t overwrite.
Blurs the lines between “funny in a strange way” and “funny ha ha”
Mistress America, co-written by and starring his real life partner and frequent collaborator Greta Gerwig, was made before While We’re Young and it shows. Like Frances Ha, the earlier collaboration between director and actress, it is clearly a less surefooted attempt at mocking social commentary and character empathy. When the movie works, it is providing wall to wall non-sequiturs combined with a nihilistic updating of a classic screwball comedy formula. When it doesn’t work, it has all of the usual problems of a Baumbach production – the feeling that he clearly loves these characters, even though they are self-absorbed to such a degree that audiences can’t help but find them, at the very least, irritating.
Like While We’re Young, the film is about viewing the hipster lifestyle through the eyes of somebody completely disenfranchised with that culture. In this case, it is college freshman Tracy (Lola Kirke), who is alienated in her New York surroundings and feeling a dearth of inspiration for a short story she needs to write in order to join an esteemed literary society. She is told by her mum to contact her soon-to-be stepsister Brooke (Gerwig). After just one night together, the two become close to best friends, with Brooke’s way of life forming the inspiration for Tracy’s short story Mistress America, named after Brooke’s idea for a TV show about a female superhero. Brooke has a ton of ideas, namely opening a new restaurant. But as her husband-to-be backs out of the business proposition, she has to go on a road trip to meet her “ex-friend” Mamie-Claire (Heather Lind) and former fiancee Dylan (Michael Chernus) in the hopes of securing their financing.
In the film’s initial stages, it proves to be somewhat annoying, due to the fast paced dialogue that never pauses for breath. This is, of course, an imitation of classic screwball comedies, yet at this early stage in the film their influence isn’t felt elsewhere. This essentially gives you the feeling that Baumbach and Gerwig had a list of one-liners they wanted to use, but didn’t necessarily have a plot to fit around – so instead they decided to just have the cast say lines that bare no relation to the previous line of dialogue, or the line that follows, hoping they will be too busy laughing to notice that this mannered way of speaking bares no relation to human contact. The amount of non-sequiturs randomly inserted at least helps develop character backstory in a brisk way, ensuring that we are emotionally invested in the later stages of the film, but it still doesn’t ring true, as people in real life don’t casually mention the death of a parent, then gloss over it, never to mention it again (which the film does and plays for laughs).
The funniest lines happen to be not the non-sequiturs, but random lines that actually help flesh out the backstories of supporting characters. For example, Brooke’s born-again catholic dad, who is a geologist by trade, is described as such: “it is amazing how a man who loves Jesus so much can be into rocks”. It is a simple one liner that is funnier due to the nonchalantly way it is performed. At the very least, the film never pauses for laughter after its bizarre dialogue, committing to the idea that people genuinely talk like this.
A Screwball Scramble
Mistress America soon hits its stride as the action moves to the mansion home of Mamie-Claire and Dylan. By forcing all of the mismatched characters into one setting, then leaving them there for a full half hour sequence, the film turns into a demented screwball chamber piece utterly at odds with the comedic sensibilities of the rest of the picture. It is this segment of the film that helps revitalise it, making you wish it was all like this; characters who were previously annoying suddenly become endearing when paired with similarly irritating characters, completely at odds with their outlook.
As well as the characters listed above, Tracy’s college friend Tony (Matthew Shear) and his consistently jealous girlfriend Nicolette (Jasmine Cephas Jones) have inexplicably tagged along for the ride and become central elements of the unfolding chaos. In modern cinema, a trope such as “the jealous girlfriend” who assumes her boyfriend is cheating on her with every girl he speaks to is regarded as outdated (and rightfully so). Here, Baumbach takes great delight in revitalising a trope that acted as an integral plot point for many screwball comedies, even if it is socially and culturally out of touch. But then, with his actors flinging dialogue to-and-fro without so much as a pause for breath, a stock archetype character like this acts simply to affirm that he is being directly inspired by the style and rhythms of classic Hollywood cinema, reappropriating it as his own.
Because outside of this scene, the centrepiece of the movie (and certainly among the funniest things I’ve seen in a cinema this year), the film is straining for contemporary relevance that the screwball influence all but refuses to afford it. So, we have a synth score from Dean Wareham and Britta Phillips that sounds pretty good, but helps underline that Baumbach is confused about the film he is making. Is he making another modern tale of over-privileged big city kids, or is he making a raucous and funny updating of the screwball genre? The synth score suggests the former, with its detached hipster cool feeling utterly at odds with the madcap comedy that follows.
I said earlier in the review that there was an underlying nihilism to the screwball stylings and that is true; after all, Baumbach’s approach to comedy writing usually involves a combination of random non-sequiturs and blackly comic jokes designed to make the audience feel uncomfortable. Only in the mansion scene does the film’s attempt to match his style with classic sensibilities feel like it has been pulled off successfully. Everything from the dialogue rhythms to the framing of certain shots feels like the result of Baumbach and Gerwig studying the classics and figuring out how to pitch them to their sensibility without diluting anything that made the originals so special.
Conclusion
Mistress America doesn’t fully succeed with what it sets out to do – renewing a tired comedy sub-genre for a new and more cynical generation. It has moments of true comic and artistic inspiration, but as a whole, it feels like Baumbach is treading ground little different to what he has approached in his films before.
What are your favourite screwball comedies? Are there any modern movies that actually pull off the screwball style?
Mistress America is out in the UK and US now. All international release dates can be found here.
(top image source: Fox Searchlight Pictures)
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema - get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.
Alistair is a 25 year old writer based in Cambridge. He has been writing about film since the start of 2014, and in addition to Film Inquiry, regularly contributes to Gay Essential and The Digital Fix, with additional bylines in Film Stories, the BFI and Vague Visages. Because of his work for Film Inquiry, he is a recognised member of GALECA, the Gay & Lesbian Entertainment Critics' Association.