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'Perfect Partner' is messy mix of movie and soundtrack
Monday, October 30, 2006 BY JAY LUSTIG
Star-Ledger Staff
Conceived as a bold step forward for music and film, but resembling, in actuality, an MTV video gone haywire, "Perfect Partner" had its U.S. premiere Friday night at the Alexander Kasser Theater at Montclair State University.
This hour-long multimedia project, combining film with live music by a sextet led by Kim Gordon (of the influential alternative-rock band Sonic Youth), was genuinely new and different. Give Gordon credit for taking it on, and having the guts to present it outside her usual stomping grounds (downtown New York).
But "Perfect Partner," which also was presented at the theater on Saturday, was a disappointing mess, unsatisfying on every level (musical, cinematic, theatrical). It was mildly absorbing at best, annoyingly pretentious at worst.
Gordon was backed by five other musicians, including her husband and Sonic Youth co-leader Thurston Moore, and former Sonic Youth member Jim O'Rourke. All three played guitar and Gordon also sang. Percussionist Tim Barnes pounded out rock beats, but also created eerie sounds by rubbing a bow against his drums and cymbals. Ikue Mori and DJ Olive -- credited in the program as playing "laptop" and "decks," respectively -- added to the often rich sonic blend.
They musicians spent the entire evening behind a translucent screen, on which a film was projected. At times, you could make them out clearly; at others, you could hardly see them.
If the point of the project was to blur the line separating movie and soundtrack, it succeeded. The focus kept shifting between the images and the sounds. Sometimes, the film stopped entirely and the music took over. Sometimes, the music faded into the background. For much of the evening, the emphasis was equal, as it is in a music video.
The film, co-written and co-directed by Gordon in collaboration with Tony Oursler and Phil Morrison, starred Michael Pitt (who has had major roles in movies like "Last Days," "The Dreamers" and "Bully") and newcomer Jamie Bochert as pretty, blank-faced lovers Dori and Polly. There were a few other actors, but little in the way of storyline, characterization or atmosphere.
Dori and Polly meet and connect -- a miracle, since they both project an air of near-catatonic confusion. They go for a drive. They confront inner demons. They survive a violent attack. They end up at the ocean. They remain mysteries.
Surreally, much of the script was devoted to bland, interrogatory phrases like "What type of sports do you like to play?" and "What is the TV show you relate to the most?"
Even when the music got loud, the dialogue could be understood, via the help of subtitles. In one of the film's typically odd and wry touches, deadpan sentences ("They are tired of driving") flashed on the screen, helping to tell the story.
Often, two films would be shown at once -- one following Dori and Polly, the other projecting unrelated or abstract images. In one of the most effective juxtapositions, Dori and Polly sat in their car, talking, as dancers twirled around them, suggesting motion.
Throughout the movie, the scenes had a musical quality, repeating and playing with motifs rather than moving forward in a more standard fashion. And the music was cinematic in its scope.
Sometimes, the live soundtrack was a gorgeously swelling sound collage, but at other times, it would stop floating and coalesce into an explosion of grating noise -- or a rock song. When Gordon sang, she often echoed the painfully slow phrasing of the movies' characters.
A handful of attendees lost patience and walked out before the project was over, but most stayed to the event's awkward conclusion. There were no closing credits to indicate that the film had ended. The screen just went blank and the musicians walked offstage, in darkness, without taking a bow. There was applause, but no encore.
Jay Lustig writes about popular music for The Star-Ledger. He may be reached at
jlustig@starledger.com or (973) 392-5850.