A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Showing posts with label Mary Bronstein. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Bronstein. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 19, 2026

Yeast (Mary Bronstein, 2008)

Mary Bronstein in Yeast

Cast: Mary Bronstein, Greta Gerwig, Amy Judd, Josh Safdie, Benny Safdie, Sean Price Williams, Ignacio Carballo, David Sandholm. Screenplay: Mary Bronstein. Cinematography: Michael Tully, Sean Price Williams. Film editing: Ronald Bronstein. 

Rachel (Mary Bronstein) is wound a little too tight, but her friends Alice (Amy Judd) and Gen (Greta Gerwig) are barely wound up at all: They are the very definition of "slackers." And that's the relationship that plays out through Bronstein's itchy movie Yeast. The more Rachel tries to get Alice and Gen to straighten up their lives, the more passively aggressive they become. Yeast runs for a mercifully brief 78 minutes --  I say "mercifully" because I don't know how much longer I could take having my nose rubbed, via hand-held camerawork and extreme closeups, in the lives of these dysfunctional young women. Which is not to say that Bronstein didn't succeed, maybe just short of brilliantly, at giving a portrait of millennials uncertain where they fit in the scheme of things they were thrust into. It's easy to dismiss Yeast as just another "mumblecore" movie, proudly low-budget, improvised, and unstructured, and the presence of Gerwig and the Safdie brothers (in a loopy cameo) reinforces that. But there's a real poignancy at the film's end, when Rachel, irritating as she can be, finds herself alone.