Review of Chuck & Buck

Introduction

An opening montage of kid’s paraphernalia (model planes, drawings, etc) accompanied by a hacking smoker’s cough, which results in a death before the credits have even rolled. From the outset Miguel Arteta’s film reveals its scalpel sharp mix of juvenile innocence, naïveté and distraction and at the same time concealed from the bitterness, denial and conceit that operates in the adult world. Buck (Mike White) lives in his own private realm of permanent adolescence, when his mother dies, he is reunited briefly with his best friend from childhood, Charlie (Chris Weitz) who is now a successful record executive in Los Angeles. Charlie, unsurprisingly, is embarrassed, even frightened by Buck’s seemingly boundless attempts to rekindle their friendship. Until that is, Buck hooks up with lonely theatre attendant Beverly (Lupe Ontiveros) who helps him create an explicit play about their childhood ‘games’, much to the surprise of Charlie’s fiancée Carlyn (Beth Colt).

Video

The packaging claims the ratio here is 4:3 letterbox, but wrong on both counts. This is widescreen, and anamorphic as well. The bleached colors and fuzzy resolution are not a fault of the transfer, but ‘Chuck & Buck’ is one of the few features to be shot on digital video, so the quality isn’t up to the standards of film. However, digital video has its own appeal, a half-finished intimacy and muddy proximity that you rarely get with the harsh definitions of celluloid.

Audio

Just a stereo track so nothing to shout about, but this is clear and crisp enough.

Features

A trailer, but nowt else.

Conclusion

“I’m afraid of things” Buck (Mike White) says near the end of the movie, and he is: afraid of people, afraid of adulthood, afraid of having to start over. What’s unique about ‘Chuck & Buck’, other than its acute grasp of the poignancy and the embarrassment of childhood, is its hilarious and moving shifts of tone and sympathy. Buck may be sweet, innocent, harmless and wanting only to be loved, but at times its easier to relate to Chuck’s desire to be free of this naïve anchor from his past, rather than the regressive obsession of Buck’s need to rekindle their perverse friendship. The point of course being, if Buck was your friend, you wouldn’t want him hanging around either.

White’s script, and Arteta’s direction are marvels of minimalist filmmaking, but what really makes this work is its performances and unconventional casting: One of the things that gives Chris Weitz his sinister, compassionless brevity is his relatively unqualified talents as an actor (he is more known for his talents as a writer and director of films such as ‘American Pie’ and ‘Antz’ than a Hollywood thespian). He is sincere and devoid of actor-ish histrionics which makes his cruel, sinewy, subtle denouncement of Buck all the more creepily real (incidentally, his brother Paul, also appears as a novice actor whom Buck takes a shining too.) When Buck makes a photo-mural of their childhood, Chuck scans every photo with a vociferous intensity, terrified by his new success being high-jacked by this abrupt and naïve force of nature from his past. Chuck wily and acute self-protection is matched only by Buck’s fearless honesty.

As Buck, White is simply a revelation, his performance lived-in and focused, lending the character a compassion and dignity light-years beyond the one-note simpletons we’ve come to expect. At times, its scary how precise his performance is, well aware of Chuck’s false-kindness and seeing right through the façade, knowing full well that its easy for Chuck to be polite when he’s forcing him out the door. Immediate, unselfconscious and at the absolute cutting edge, ‘Chuck & Buck’ is creepy, funny and utterly compelling stuff, its narrative daring more than matched by its human, unexpectedly harrowing and heartfelt approach. Wonderful.