Bellflower

Bellflower is an intoxicating, and beautifully messy film, which tells the story of two young men who spend their time creating and tinkering with flame throwers and other weapons of mass destruction, so as to be prepared for a global apocalypse. Along the way, one falls in and out of love with a girl, and in doing so, experiences the destruction of the world in his own personal way. His destruction pollutes everyone around him, as one of the chapter titles tells us ‘Nobody Gets Out of Here Alive’. Apocalypse courses through the narrative, embeds itself into the films cinematography, editing, and emotional punch. Though the end of the world never actually occurs, all the characters, in their own tragic way, experience a physical and spiritual destruction, catalysed by their post-adolescent angst.

Typically, I prefer to review films in a ‘death of the author’ kind of way, disregarding who made them, or how they were made. This Barthesian approach seems particularly suitable for films, because they are, by their nature, always a collaborative effort, only a very few number of pictures can boast to have a director with complete creative control behind them. However, with Bellflower it seems inappropriate to disregard its context, because the methods behind its production, and how much money was used to create it, make the film something particularly and spectacularly special.

Evan Glodell wrote, directed, co-produced, starred in, and co-edited Bellflower. He even made the camera used to shoot the film, as well as creating its more important props. Prop design may not seem that big a deal, but when one of the set-pieces is a Mad-Max-ian, flame-throwing, post-apocalyptic car fitted with fully functional dash-mounted surveillance cameras, an integrated smoke-screen generator and lever-toggled suspension, it is, to use the parlance of the movie’s characters, pretty fucking awesome. Equally home-grown is the camera used to capture it all: it stands as an assemblage of various camera parts, vintage and Russian lenses, all mounted around a Silicon Imaging SI-2K Mini Digital Cinema camera. This allowed cinematographer Joel Hodge to create the film’s deservedly praised and highly distinctive look. At the beginning of my viewing, I spent a good few minutes trying to clean the dirt off my laptop, however I soon realised that all the dust was actually on the camera’s lenses. Bellflower looks dirty. Its sultry, sordid and suburban setting inherently lends a post-apocalyptic aesthetic, as if the footage was recovered from a radioactive pile of nuclear fallout. Oh, by the way, it was all filmed for under $20,000.

The film has divided critics and viewers. Many, to my surprise, have found fault with the performances on show here. To be sure, they’re not nuanced, nor are they executed with finesse. But the characters themselves, are hardly elegant or emotionally mature - the film starts with them in a cricket eating contest for god’s sake. They’re jobless, wash-ups who consider flame-thrower construction a healthy hobby, and do nothing but drink, take drugs and have sex only to hurt one another. So the amateur acting on display perfectly matches what the script demands. I was constantly reminded of Bully when watching this, both portray that frustrated angst of disaffected youth, where underemployment and lack of direction can only lead to destruction. In my view, Aiden (Tyler Daweson) stands out as the film’s emotional core, and only likeable character. His monologue at the end, with its surely self-conscious homoerotic undertones, brought a tear to my eye.

Bellflower is an important film and deserves every bit of praise it can get. It’s Evan Glodell’s debut, and an explosive one at that. Regardless of whether the film appeals to your tastes, watching it is not a forgettable experience. And Evan Glodell is definitely a towering talent to watch. It’s miniscule budget, impressively unique cinematography and exhilarating explosions prove that you do not need the latest in 3-D or computer-generated imaging to make a film that packs a visual punch.