Take a Drink: for off-putting art
Take a Drink: for douchebaggery
Take a Drink: whenever Amy goes after a douchebag
Take a Drink: for costuming
Do a Shot: for lady farts
Do a Shot: when you flinch
By: Henry J. Fromage (Two Beers) –
If you want to be intellectually stimulated, challenged, or even provoked by a film, then you’re unlikely to find a more interesting film this year than Felt.
If all of that sounds terrible, I’ve got a cure for that.
Felt follows an artist with a fixation on the male form, which she particularly demonstrates through a serious of horrifying male costumes she dons and capers through the woods in. When she starts a romance, it will either provide a glimmer of hope or confirm everything she fears.
Amy Everson, whose life and art inform her script, and who stars, is utterly spectacular. This was marketed as a documentary/fiction hybrid, which we’ll discuss in a bit, but her performance is so genuine that you don’t doubt it. It’s a difficult performance- emotionally disturbed, intensely confrontational, yet hopeful, sensitive, humorous. She’s a fully formed character in every way, which makes the turns the plot takes that much more devastating.
Nothing good will come of this.
This uniquely female fear, frustration, and fury is not often, ashamedly so, seen on the big screen, and this is an utterly furious film, one that forces you to engage with it, think about it. As a man, it can be difficult to comprehend the objectification women face every day, and Felt holds up a mirror many men don’t want to look into. That alone is a reason to watch, and the performances, crisp and evocative visuals, and deeply weird, deeply sad plotting are all essentially icing.
Felt is being marketed as some form of documentary, as well as an examination of rape culture. It’s neither, not really, and you’re likely to suffer some whiplash if you’re expecting it. It’s documentary like Louie is documentary- informed by real events but very clearly not real events… so, not a documentary. This hurts the rape culture content as well, as it features several male characters that are only there to be the worse one-dimensional examples of masculinity.
Surprise! Bizarro Matt Damon is a toolbag.
There’s a hint of provocation for provocation’s sake, especially the horrific ending, which was awesomely mind-blowing, but which was set in motion by a fairly standard romance/jilted lover plot arc that has very little to do with the film’s feminist themes. It’s more Teeth than The Feminine Mystique, which, A) makes me really want to rewatch this alongside some “Men’s Rights” freaks and B) does very little to further communication and understanding a feminist, and just female, perspective.
Strangely, I’ve got the same prescription for that.
Felt is a beautifully made, deeply weird, and rage-filled rejoinder to the looming threat of sexual violence that women face every day.