[Rating: Rock Fist Way Down]
In theaters and on VOD and Digital on March 11.
Mired in cliché and lacking even a whiff of inspiration, Offseason comes out of the gate cold, stumbles around the first turn, then just kind of wanders aimlessly on the track before straight-up cutting through the infield to get across the finish line. Less of a movie and more a collection of foggy Southern Gothic vignettes, writer/director Mickey Keating knows the vibe he wants, yet finds himself utterly unmoored in a rudderless story that can’t figure out how to get there. Devoid of character and drowning in a sea of cartoonish, over-directed melodrama, the experience is not unlike the one faced by the lead, lost as she is without any clue how to escape her predicament.
The basic premise is easy enough to grasp, even if the movie weirdly decides to open with an extended, cryptic monologue from a character the audience won’t properly meet until the second act. Once past the prologue, Offseason introduces Jocelin (Marie Aldrich) and George (Joe Swanberg), who are travelling by car to coastal island Lone Palm Beach, which a salty local manning the drawbridge leading to the locale informs them is closed for “the season.” Jocelin is making the trip at the behest of Lone Palm’s graveyard caretaker, who asked Jocelin to come and tend to her mother’s recently vandalized plot and headstone, so the pair forge ahead.
Yet once on the island, Jocelin and George find it difficult to get off, and must contend with a brood of almost ethereal townsfolk who speak in riddles and act like stock NPC’s in a 3rd-rate open-world Xbox game from 2007. There’s mystery all about, and something not quite right in this locals-only island hamlet, yet rather than explore any of this organically, Offseason just bangs around, absorbing this atmosphere until a character or flashback lays out a chunk of the plot wholesale. And while the movie does unpack some of the backstory of Jocelin and her mother, Ava (Melora Walters), it never incorporates the larger mystery into the fabric of this world with anything resembling cohesion.
Indeed, when in doubt, Keating and the film just unspool a pained and extended monologue or flashback to bring the audience up to speed, explaining how an age-old curse or Ava’s final days tie into Jocelin and George’s predicament. This lack of subtlety extends into pretty much every facet of the production, from the over-taxed fog machine to the clipped yet oppressive score, which uses choral chanting with an exhaustive lack of restraint. Indeed, what you see is what you get with this one, and nothing is interesting or inviting at first (or even second) glance.
And that’s a problem, because nothing develops in Offseason, nor does anything grow, build, or find purchase within a larger tapestry. Every set, lighting set-up, music stinger, and character with the exception of Jocelin acts like a narrative signpost to push the lead and the story in a deliberate direction, giving the whole picture an exhausting inevitability that robs the audience of any genuine tension or buy-in. Indeed, this isn’t so much a story as a jumbled-up roadmap, so when Jocelin and George walk into a Lone Palm Beach bar early on and all the regulars sneer and cackle like the animatronic puppets on Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean ride, there’s not a lot of mystery about what’s going to happen next.
Cinematographer Mac Fisken should be commended for making portions of this visually appealing, bringing some depth and texture to shots that are too often trading fog for genuine intrigue and character development. Aldrich also does decent work in a largely thankless role too often sabotaged by flashbacks and editing that tends to hold on to shots for too long. She doesn’t have a lot of time to grow into this mystery or the rapidly deteriorating situation unfolding around her, yet one can see an earnest attempt at a decent performance in there, just waiting for a tighter edit and more focused direction.
Thin on plot, anemic on character, and structured in such a way as to rob it of any tension, momentum, or mystery, Offseason never comes close to bringing all of its disparate elements together. Blessed with a simple conceit (stuck on a haunted island with no way off) and decent enough tools in front of and behind the camera, writer/director Mickey Keating never manages to assemble any of these pieces into something that hooks an audience or holds their attention. Like Lone Palm Beach, this one is probably best left alone and avoided lest its curse ensnare another unsuspecting victim.
“Obvious Child” is the debut novel of Warren Cantrell, a film and music critic based out of Seattle, Washington. Mr. Cantrell has covered the Sundance and Seattle International Film Festivals, and provides regular dispatches for Scene-Stealers and The Playlist. Warren holds a B.A. and M.A. in History, and his hobbies include bourbon drinking, novel writing, and full-contact kickboxing.
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