“When I first saw Jake, something in me that had always chosen safety changed its mind and craved experience. That’s what I think got me into trouble.”
Robin’s (Sidney Flanigan) ominous words open Phoebe Nir’s feature debut Eco Village, premiering at the Rotterdam International Film Festival. Presented as a “film, musical, vanity project,” it’s the latter descriptor that applies most directly to this loose-limbed indie whose hodgepodge concoction of coming-of-age story, summery eroticism, and midnight movie mania never feels fully formed.
Tired of living in a cheap motel, Robin, an aspiring songwriter, packs her ukulele and teddy bear named Donuts and hitches her way to a small, bucolic commune in upstate New York she saw online. From the moment she arrives, there’s a palpable tension in the air. Sammi (Devika Bhisa) is openly hostile, while her life partner and founder, Ursula (Lindsay Burdge) maintains an enigmatic distance, but an undeniable influence. The laid-back Jean Lerois (Eric Austin) keeps his own counsel but warns Robin to stay away from the hunky Jake (Alex Breaux), and naturally, that’s where her trouble begins. Jake never pretends to be anything but a boozy, self-involved island unto himself, but Robin can’t help but be drawn to him. Even though he initially resists her sexual advances, she is determined to have someone to hold and be horny with, and her pursuit sets off an explosive emotional frenzy across the small farming community that was pent up and waiting to happen.
Marked by a tendency to add three more ingredients when one or two will suffice, Eco Village never gets out of its own way long enough to let its core story about Robin’s idealistic view of love blinding her from seeing Jake’s true nature take root. Based on her own off-Broadway play, Nir attempts to augment the material for the screen with her own forgettable, open mic night-styled songs and music, largely via montage heavy interludes. The editing by Linds Gray of Sean Dahlberg’s warm 16mm cinematography emphasizes lens flares and reel ends in cutting from scene to scene. The picture simply struggles to sit still with Robin’s feelings, frequently moving away from them as quickly as they’re formed.
This restlessness comes into full bloom in the film’s big swing, third act shift. A long simmering confrontation between Robin and Sammi finally boils over and the picture jumps into an extended, unexpectedly bloody, orgiastic “musical” sequence. Without spoiling anything further, the filmmakers even manage for a helicopter to appear in an otherwise low-budget production. Whether what unfolds is real, metaphorical, or a product of Robin’s imagination hardly matters. However, the subsequent reveal outlining Robin’s true backstory in a surprise twist is the picture once again squirming out of our grasp. And the suggestion that it makes about the reasons and context for her emotional naiveté feels too easy, and too reductive.
Both the most exciting and scariest part of falling in love for the first time is opening yourself up to someone and letting them see who you really are. And it’s this very vulnerability that’s missing from Eco Village. As confidently as Nir puts her own words, music, and even life on screen — the film is inspired by her own fumbling first experiences — there’s also an eagerness to make an impression that overreaches to the point that it forgets the cardinal rule: be yourself.
Director, screenwriter, music: Phoebe Nir
Cast: Sidney Flanigan, Alex Braeux, Lindsay Burdge, Stephen Gurewitz, Devika Bhisa, Eric Austin
Producers: Phoebe Nir, Theresa Rebeck, Giovanni Labadessa, Luca Severi
Cinematography: Sean Dahlberg
Editing: Linds Gray
Sound: Enrico Zavatta
Production companies: Luca Severi Production Group (United States)
World sales: Luca Severi Production Group
Venue: International Film Festival Rotterdam (Bright Future)
In English
82 minutes
