'Lives Out' weaves tangled web

At the heart of Lives Out (directed by Alexander DeMille, TD '02, and Geoffrey Sledge, TD '02) lie the lives and problems of four college students, captured on tape by a sadistic director (Roberto Sabater, TD '02) and his cameraman (Jason Goodwin, BK '01). Brad (James Schroder, BR '03) and Gwyn (V. Stephanie Carendi, BR '03) are a model couple, both beautiful and popular, yet their relationship is compromised by Brad's brashness and insensitivity. Adam Milch, CC '04 is convincing as Brad's roommate Kurt, an introverted, pensive soul who is disgusted by the banality and superficiality of everyday conversation, and tortured by his breakup with Faye (Carolyn Wright, CC '03).

COURTESY ALEXANDER DEMILLE 'Jebediah, where's your left hand?'

The interaction between the main characters is the best part of Lives Out. Though they start out as somewhat stereotypical (the jock, his self-consciously beautiful girlfriend, the antisocial roommate, etc.), inspired acting from the cast creates touching, poignant moments between the characters. In one instance, the awkward silence that hangs palpably between Kurt and Faye is punctuated only sporadically by the equally awkward conversation ("So how's school?" "Awful." "I'm sorry."). The authenticity in scenes like these is also due in part to the mock-umentary style in which Lives Out is shot. The directors film the movie in a simple and believable manner and a-void—for the most part—the melodrama and heavy symbolism that plagues most student films.

It is the film's genuinely human moments, grounded in concerns familiar to college students, that get lost amidst the tangle of subplots. Don't get me wrong—the image of a masked Blake tackling a prospective client just off York Street is a hilarious high point in the film. But these random moments become problematic. Blake, Jeremy, Vincent, and the filmmakers are complex enough to serve as more than just satirical devices, and they end up drawing too much attention away from the main characters. The result is a residue of undeveloped potential that invites the question—mid-laugh—"Just who are these people?"

Lives Out is ultimately a movie about exploitation and perception. In some cases, this exploitation is destructive. But when seen through the rose-tinted glasses of love, exploitation can become not only acceptable, but tender and sweet—that something that keeps drawing you back no matter how much you've been hurt. And Lives Out succeeds capturing this something, even if the film as a whole is a mixed bag: funny and touching at times, strange and frustrating at others.

Back to A&E...