“Qu'ils mangent de la brioche.” (Let them eat cake.)
-Marie-Antoinette
THE CAKE EATERS is a movie about people who live in a small town, people trying to grow up in spite of their personal challenges, people who deal with loss. Bringing all these things together is the talent of Bruce Dern, Kristin Stewart, and Melissa Leo, Elizabeth Ashley, to name just a few of the more recognizable faces in this movie.
THE CAKE EATERS is the directorial debut of Mary Stewart Masterson. She’s learned a lot being in front of a camera, skills that she uses in this film behind the camera. She knows how to work with her excellent cast, bringing out great performances by reining in the more experienced actors to balance with the newer ones, so that no one steps on the other’s toes. The screenwriter is also one of the lead actors. He is perhaps the least apt of the cast, but you wouldn’t know without watching carefully. This speaks well of the director.
I saw THE CAKE EATERS last year, at the Ashland Independent Film Festival. Film festivals tend to be a kaleidoscope of bodies and movies and no sleep. When someone dragged me over to meet the fellow who wrote this movie, I was polite and in a hurry. I slipped his card in among the other cards in my pocket. After the standing-room only screening of THE CAKE EATERS, I dug up his card and began the year-long process of trying to bring this film to Corvallis. It took a while to get distribution, and I was glad to hear the writer had passed my name along. It speaks well of them that they kept my card, too—a small fish in the piranha-laden waters of theatrical exhibition.
THE CAKE EATERS seems to roll at its own pace and wants you to slow down and enjoy the stroll. The nice thing about the Darkside denizens is, they are generally not in a hurry. That means we don’t have to start movies right on time, and when we do get things rolling we can enjoy the ride. A lot like THE CAKE EATERS.
The sexual politics are either the lube that moves this story or the glue that holds it together—depending on which pun you prefer.
Kristin Stewart (INTO THE WILD, TWILIGHT, ADVENTURE LAND) plays Georgia. She’s too small to play the whole state, so she plays a young woman trying to come to terms with a body that flutters out of her control. Her neurological degenerative disease is as much a character of this movie as the people, but Stewart quietly incorporates the incessant twitching into Georgia’s character without stealing the scene.
Easy, father of Beagle and Guy, is played by Bruce Dern, proving that some actors don’t lose it when they get snow on the roof. He puts on a folksy calm that seems like it might be a little passive aggressive. Easy just watched his wife die of cancer, but he’s not ready to lie down and die just because his wife did.
Georgia has her eye on Beagle (Aaron Stanford). Beagle has grown into his name—running a little behind the pack. Although he is a little older than Georgia, she leads the way in emotional maturity.
Stewart has an intrinsic adolescent snotty affect—perfect for this part. She looks at the camera with a little girl’s frustration—mouth slack with two front teeth peeking out. More like a small child than a teenager wanting to learn about sex—right damn now.
Georgia’s mom (Talia Balsam) fills the room with the feathers of a mother hen, trying to protect Georgia from herself and life. But life tends to happen anyway. The clock’s ticking for Georgia, and as she says when asked about her condition: “This is as good as it gets.” Our temptation to move into pathos or unkind judgment is tempered by our understanding of Georgia—her life is ending before it really gets started.
Guy (played by Jayce Bartok, the writer) is the son who took off to chase a music career—conveniently avoiding being on hand for his mom’s death. When he steps back into the life he left, Guy brings his own baggage along with his guitar case. Beagle stayed home. Tension? Hell, yeah. Especially when Easy greets Guy like he’s the prodigal son. Especially when both boys see that Easy is not clinging to the sacred memory of their mother the way they would like him to.
THE CAKE EATERS is simply shot with love and wit. There is a sweetness Masterson and her feminine sensibilities bring to a story that could have very easily become like sands through the hourglass. There is almost no emotional waste. As predictable as some moments in the film might be, we still want to see them happen—because we are already there. We know these people and we like them. They are funny and scared and lost and found. We will leave the auditorium a little sad that we won’t be back next week to check on our friends. That’s a sadness I can live with.
Comments