-By David Rooney
For movie details, please click here.
Writer-director Marshall Lewy’s
California Solo is a
melancholy character study of a burnt-out former Britpop rocker
steered by misfortune onto a path of possible redemption. While the
script veers toward familiar melodrama and is not without cliché,
the minor-key film benefits from Robert Carlyle’s soulful
performance in the central role, bouncing back and forth between
dulled resignation and self-destructive anger.
A Scotsman voluntarily exiled in California, where he works on an
organic farm outside Los Angeles, Lachlan MacAldonich (Carlyle) has
a lot of rough-edged charm and humor to offset his failings. That
appeal is clearly evident to Beau (Alexia Rasmussen), a similarly
unfulfilled regular customer at the Silver Lake farmers’ market
where Lachlan sells produce.
A high-school dropout who got swept up in the glory days of the
Manchester music scene, Lachlan was the guitarist in a culty 1990s
rock band. But their bid for immortality was undercut by the sudden
death of the talented front-man, Lachlan’s older brother. His guilt
over having supplied the drugs that killed him has kept Lachlan
from returning to the U.K. He now finds oblivion in a whiskey
bottle every night while recording “Flame-Outs,” a podcast series
“where we consider the tragic and sometimes spectacular deaths of
the world’s greatest musicians.”
Lewy sniffs around the possibility of a relationship with Beau, but
that never quite happens. The character is unsatisfyingly drawn,
with too few personal insights to make her interesting. The
understatement works better in Lachlan’s gentle friendship with the
farm owner (A Martinez) and his teenage son (Eli Vargas), who
remain supportive of him despite his unreliability.
Lachlan is arrested early in the movie on DUI charges, and a
conviction from many years earlier for marijuana possession comes
back to haunt him. Despite being a legal resident in the U.S. for
12 years, he risks being repatriated unless he can prove that his
removal would cause extreme hardship for a spouse or relative who
is an American citizen.
As his options run out, Lachlan is forced to dredge up the past,
contacting his estranged ex-wife (Kathleen Wilhoite) and
13-year-old daughter (Savannah Lathem) in a clumsy bid to work that
angle. Lewy declines to go down the prosaic road of rescuing him.
But a lovely scene between the smart, sensitive young girl (played
with disarming delicacy by Lathem) and the father she has never
known plants the seed for Lachlan to reclaim some kind of a
life.
Shot in soft light and muted tones in and around Los Angeles, and
graced by composer T. Griffin’s mellow acoustic score, the film
favors nonjudgmental observation over muscular drama, meaning it’s
somewhat underpowered. Even Lachlan’s booze-fueled meltdown or his
explosions of impotent rage over the tricky immigration laws yield
only passing moments of volatility.
But Carlyle gives
California Solo a bruised heart. (His
slight resemblance to music veteran Paul Weller, the former lead of
The Jam and Style Council, adds flavor to his portrayal of a
one-time Britpop fixture.) The actor’s work here is both
character-specific and universal in its midlife reflections on bad
decisions, poor planning and youthful mistakes, ending on a hopeful
note that suggests it’s never too late to shake off the numbness
and try again.
—
The Hollywood Reporter
Film Review: California Solo
Robert Carlyle’s layered performance as an embittered musician facing his demons gives this fragile drama some emotional heft.
Nov 27, 2012
-By David Rooney
For movie details, please click here.
Writer-director Marshall Lewy’s
California Solo is a melancholy character study of a burnt-out former Britpop rocker steered by misfortune onto a path of possible redemption. While the script veers toward familiar melodrama and is not without cliché, the minor-key film benefits from Robert Carlyle’s soulful performance in the central role, bouncing back and forth between dulled resignation and self-destructive anger.
A Scotsman voluntarily exiled in California, where he works on an organic farm outside Los Angeles, Lachlan MacAldonich (Carlyle) has a lot of rough-edged charm and humor to offset his failings. That appeal is clearly evident to Beau (Alexia Rasmussen), a similarly unfulfilled regular customer at the Silver Lake farmers’ market where Lachlan sells produce.
A high-school dropout who got swept up in the glory days of the Manchester music scene, Lachlan was the guitarist in a culty 1990s rock band. But their bid for immortality was undercut by the sudden death of the talented front-man, Lachlan’s older brother. His guilt over having supplied the drugs that killed him has kept Lachlan from returning to the U.K. He now finds oblivion in a whiskey bottle every night while recording “Flame-Outs,” a podcast series “where we consider the tragic and sometimes spectacular deaths of the world’s greatest musicians.”
Lewy sniffs around the possibility of a relationship with Beau, but that never quite happens. The character is unsatisfyingly drawn, with too few personal insights to make her interesting. The understatement works better in Lachlan’s gentle friendship with the farm owner (A Martinez) and his teenage son (Eli Vargas), who remain supportive of him despite his unreliability.
Lachlan is arrested early in the movie on DUI charges, and a conviction from many years earlier for marijuana possession comes back to haunt him. Despite being a legal resident in the U.S. for 12 years, he risks being repatriated unless he can prove that his removal would cause extreme hardship for a spouse or relative who is an American citizen.
As his options run out, Lachlan is forced to dredge up the past, contacting his estranged ex-wife (Kathleen Wilhoite) and 13-year-old daughter (Savannah Lathem) in a clumsy bid to work that angle. Lewy declines to go down the prosaic road of rescuing him. But a lovely scene between the smart, sensitive young girl (played with disarming delicacy by Lathem) and the father she has never known plants the seed for Lachlan to reclaim some kind of a life.
Shot in soft light and muted tones in and around Los Angeles, and graced by composer T. Griffin’s mellow acoustic score, the film favors nonjudgmental observation over muscular drama, meaning it’s somewhat underpowered. Even Lachlan’s booze-fueled meltdown or his explosions of impotent rage over the tricky immigration laws yield only passing moments of volatility.
But Carlyle gives
California Solo a bruised heart. (His slight resemblance to music veteran Paul Weller, the former lead of The Jam and Style Council, adds flavor to his portrayal of a one-time Britpop fixture.) The actor’s work here is both character-specific and universal in its midlife reflections on bad decisions, poor planning and youthful mistakes, ending on a hopeful note that suggests it’s never too late to shake off the numbness and try again.
—
The Hollywood Reporter