Like the mysterious celestial body described in its title, Happer’s Comet is a veritable UFO of a movie — part fiction, part documentary, part something else that’s hard to describe unless you see it for yourself.
Marking a return to the Berlinale Forum for writer-director Tyler Taormina, who premiered his debut, Ham on Rye, at the festival in 2019, this short second feature is even more daring in concept and form, eschewing anything close to a traditional narrative but nonetheless maintaining our interest through its sheer originality, which at times recalls the work of David Lynch.
Made during the pandemic lockdown in Taormina’s leafy Long Island hometown, Comet feels like a movie composed entirely of interstitial footage — of the kinds of scenes and moments typically used to connect a plot, which in this case doesn’t exist. It’s as if someone cut all of the second unit and insert shots out of another film, then assembled them together to create a brand new story, or rather the suggestion of one.
We’re constantly awaiting events that never happen, following characters that never reappear, visiting locations we’ll never see again, and yet by the time it’s over, we’ve experienced something indeed — more like the anticipation of it than the thing itself. Again, it’s hard to describe, although what’s abundantly clear is that Taormina, who also edited and designed the sound, is less interested in narrative than in creating his own unique, ethereal mood, rendering his latest effort a cult item from the get-go.
The same was the case with Ham on Rye, which gave hints of being an L.A.-set prom night flick before transforming into something else entirely, with loose plot threads that completely unraveled and characters who never really emerged. Both films share a documentary side in which Taormina seems to be studying his subjects instead of making fiction with them, capturing off-the-cuff moments of their daily lives, isolating them on the street or in their homes, to channel a certain feeling of suburban angst.
In Happer’s Comet, much of the scenes take place at night, in houses illuminated by TV screens, diners closed for business, empty strip mall parking lots, an auto body shop manned by a sole mechanic. They look like settings for a thriller, except there are no break-ins or murders. At some point, people head outdoors in cars, or on rollerblades or roller skates, toward unknown destinations we never see them arrive at. The only semblance of a plot involves a rotting corncob, seen in the opening shot of the film, and a cornfield at the end where some of the townsfolk are engaged in risky business.
But even that is a stretch in terms of story, and Happer’s Comet enters you more through osmosis than via the traditional routes, leaving you with a feeling of being suspended in the middle of something that’s just out of reach. Taormina enhances the otherworldly tone with intricate sound design that uses lots of foley (the movie was shot silent) and grainy, beautifully lit footage that has the softness of 16mm film.
According to interviews, the production took place on weekends over several months, with the director using family, friends, neighbors and their pets as his cast. The result is a film that resembles a home movie, or more like a town movie, that’s seen through an alternate prism of time and space.
Director, screenplay, editing, sound design: Tyler Taormina
Cast: Grace Berlino, Jax Terry, Ryan McGlade, Michael Gugliamo, Brandon Cassanova, Brianna Taormina
Producers: Calogero Carucci, Matt Grady
Cinematography: Jesse Sperling
Production company: Omnes Films (U.S.)
World sales: Factory 25 (U.S.)
Venue: Berlin International Film Festival (Forum)
In English
62 minutes
