Basking in the glimmer of this admirable ensemble drama.
The new indie feature Glow, from Austin-based filmmaker Andrew Allen, plays out like a seemingly standard multi-strand narrative; the kind where a collection of more or less unrelated individuals occupy space in a sprawling metropolis. In many ways, the effort is very much in keeping with the format which Oscar-winning filmmaker Paul Haggis popularized more than a decade ago much to many cinemagoers chagrin with Crash. For many, this type of setup and architecture has come to induce more groans than anything else with regards to the level of storytelling trite that is usually brought forward as a result. However Glow represents proof that there is indeed a key to success with such efforts when it comes to finding the poignant and the meaningful in the smallest of spaces.
In Glow, an affluent housewife (Nancy Chartier) finds herself wondering what has happened to her life as she begins to lose hold of her family. At the same time, an expectant father (Akron Watson) is trying to make a solid life for himself and his loved ones. Meanwhile, a youth minister (Johnny Walter) experiences a crisis of faith and a socially-awkward college student (Allen) gets pulled into a darker side of life.
As is the case with most films of this nature, Glow comes complete with a small handful of flaws. The biggest of the problem areas is the fact that the film might be a bit too fragmented for its own good. At times, a little more room feels needed in order to give the majority of the film’s scenes a proper room to breathe. A few more helpings of narrative tightness would have benefited the film overall, especially with regards to the Glow’s timeline, which tends to jump all over the place on occasion. By the same token however, different choices in editing and pacing could have greatly improved the movie’s impact, especially where emotional attachment to characters is concerned. And yet it’s also understandable how such techniques can only carry certain storylines so far. During the specific moments when Allen DOES decide to let the camera keep rolling, the scenes end up falling flat, as in the case of depressed housewife Denise whose deep emotional moment is played out so long that eventually just feels over-the-top.
Structure and editing issues aside, Glow does have enough within it to keep fans of ensemble dramas taken for most of its entirety. There’s something so great about the opening sequence and how Allen provides his characters with little dialogue, instead choosing to let the individuals tell their stories through mannerisms, looks and gestures. It’s the perfect introduction to all the key characters in that it lets us discover these people through audience devices and perceptions, ultimately relating to them on a more human level. For the most part, Glow operates as a solid character study which centers on the different types of lives that comprise a city, from the top to the bottom. There plenty of telling and beautiful moments sprinkled throughout which make the film feel both special and real. A sequence featuring Watson’s heavily pregnant wife working as a grocery store check out girl shows the mind-numbing aspects of her existence and elicits pity as she’s seen trudging tiredly home. Eventually, the camera cuts to the expectant parents enjoying a simple dinner as they laugh together, showing the love and happiness that still exists between them in spite of their less than ideal life. Another sequence involving Walter’s youth minister in deep conflict about how to relate to his students, as well as his faith, is made excruciating as he is pestered by an acquaintance from his former church after coming out of a movie. Yet in the space of the scene, the girl in question becomes less annoying as we see both her uncynical heart and Walter’s recognition of it as well as the way it moves him.
In terms of performances, most of the actors do as good as they can given the sometimes vague script, which couldn’t have been the most fleshed out in terms of character development. Yet no one falls flat here thanks to the fact that Allen has given some true care and attention to everyone on the screen, with his and Walter’s performances in particular coming across as the most powerful.
Glow contains a definite slice of life feel to each scene, regardless of how cut off it is, that can prove hard to get just right. Allen has certainly given himself the film’s greatest affecting role, as well as the most deceptively underwritten one. His Jack is a college student with so many glaring social issues, he could be classified as borderline autistic. The young man spends his days exercising, cultivating his physique, while trying to relate to the few friends he has as well as his mom and stepfather. At the same time, Jack tries to find solace and acceptance by offering himself sexually to couples as an answer to something. Both the character and the storyline are worthy of more exploration than they are given, perhaps even deserving of their own film. Still, they’re only one aspect of Glow, which ultimately ends up a debut feature worth being proud of.
