The Tracey Fragments / Dustin Rowles
Collectively, I think we here at Pajiba have an incredibly high tolerance for independent cinema; I’m generally willing to give anything with a budget under $5 million and an indie darling or two amongst the cast a first-blush benefit of the doubt. And God knows we don’t review independent films for the page views — financially speaking, they are money-losers even on an indie-friendly site like ours. We do it out of respect for filmmakers who can scrape together a small budget, stretch it beyond its limits, and create something of substance. Good review or awful, we reckon the small amount of exposure we can provide helps, ever so slightly, to encourage writers and directors to take risks and do something outside of the studio-driven formulas, knowing that at least a few critics beyond industry periodicals like The Village Voice and The New York Times are paying attention.
But, fucking hell, y’all. There’s only so much indieness a guy can stomach. I’m all for experimental cinema, to a point; I thought the split-screen device used in last year’s Aaron Eckhart film, Conversations with Other Women was compelling and effective, for instance, but Bruce MacDonald’s multi-frame jimcrackery in The Tracey Fragments is too much to handle. A kaleidoscopic collage of images thrown onto the screen and swirled around like local public-access special effects, it’s an endlessly obnoxious and eyeball smacking device, it’s only purpose seemingly to distract your attention away from the nearly nonexistent story, the puerile dialogue, and the atrocious script.
While I have a tendency to satirize certain films by employing their conceits in my reviews (see, e.g., 88 Minutes), to do so here would basically require typing the same sentence frontwards, backwards, upside down, diagonally, and inside-out on different parts of the page, praying that you won’t notice what a stupid, worthless sentence it is. Take, for instance, this line uttered by Tracey in the film:
See what I mean? While many complained that Diablo Cody’s dialogue in Juno wasn’t real to a 16-year-old’s life, The Tracey Fragments exemplifies exactly why we don’t want to watch a movie where the dialogue actually does smack of authenticity when that movie is about a damaged, self-involved teenager — the whole thing is a like a bad poetry slam delivered by Miley Cyrus during an angry Goth phase: “He stuck his cock in me and said ‘I love you’ in that exact order. Now I’m not afraid to die.” What the fuckstick? The Tracey Fragments isn’t just full of horribly pretentious gimmickry, it’s written by somebody’s petulant little sister, the one who mixes John Mayer lyrics with a string of profanities to achieve the perfect mix of faux profundity.
The people, if any, who will ultimately be drawn to The Tracey Fragments are likely devotees to Ellen Page, those — like myself — who have been sucked in by her spot-on performances in both Juno and Hard Candy. The best I can say for Page here, however, is that it’s not her fault that The Tracey Fragments is so goddamn insufferable — she does the best she can with the lines she’s given, like this one, uttered to her cross-dressing shrink: “What do you know about anger, you cunt? You fucking stupid robot cunt … You’re a liar, you are a liar, why would I want to see a psychiatrist who is a big fat liar?”
Oh, my.
As for the plot, the best I can surmise from the hints given to us by Mauren Medved’s screenplay is that Tracey, a loserish punk-rock teen known at school as “The Girl with No Tits” or simply “It,” is completely alienated from everyone but for her sorta boyfriend Billy Zero (Slim Twig). Her family is dysfunctional — her Mom smokes three packs a day and has to be surgically removed from in front of the TV and her Dad is verbally abusive, sending Tracey to therapy as a way to relieve himself of responsibility. At some point (it’s hard to tell when, as the story is told non-linearly), Tracey’s nine-year-old mentally-challenged brother runs away, and Tracey feels like it’s her fault because she hypnotized him to bark like a dog, which prompted an angry outburst from their father. Tracey goes out to find him. The film then follows her aimless journey on buses or to the backseat of her boyfriend’s car, where she fucks him and shares a split screen with … a horse.
Yeah. A horse. That’s some deep shit.
There are a few moments near the end — when veteran Canadian director Bruce MacDonald decides to focus on a single-shot — that Ellen Page’s daring performance does manage to burn through the bullshit, but it doesn’t make up for an otherwise dreary movie-going experience, diluted by Macdonald’s own self-indulgence. And the director, who has helmed many an episode of “Degrassi: The Next Generation” even brings along the cheap production values from the show. But I will give MacDonald props for this: It must have taken more patience and determination to edit five minutes of this film together than it takes to produce an entire romantic comedy. Unfortunately, the result in either case isn’t worth watching. Indeed, The Tracey Fragments is something you walk into at MoMA and stare at for 45 seconds and say, “Hmph. That’s … neat, I guess,” before erasing it from your memory. But it’s certainly nothing you want to watch for a full 77 minutes, which stretches out like a Kansas interstate.
Dustin Rowles is the publisher of Pajiba. He lives with his wife and son in Ithaca, New York. You may email him, or leave a comment below.
Pajiba Love 05/15/08 | | Eloquent Eloquence 05/16/08 |
Comments
At the MTV movie awards one year, Wayne and Garth were brought on to explain why 'Sound and Visual Editing' is an important part of making a movie, by showing an example of bad editing.
The sound went wonky, various horrible camera angles were used, scenes were cut off, and at one point they cut to footage of a chicken.
... it sounds a lot like this. I weep that Ellen Page is involved but rejoice that no one will even notice?
Posted by: twig at May 16, 2008 9:05 AM
I couldn't watch the orginal Thomas Crowne Affair with Steve McQueen because of all the stupid multi-frame crap going on at the same time. It didn't work then, and it doesn't work now.
Posted by: BWeaves at May 16, 2008 9:18 AM
I keep looking at that picture and thinking the therapist looks like Scott Thompson. I know it's not, but it keeps making me think, "Ellen Page has a bit part in some new Kids in the Hall movie?! Sweet!" Then I read the review and become horribly disappointed.
Posted by: Bistro at May 16, 2008 9:25 AM
"This is the danger of expanding rock videos to full length features"--Mike Nelson
You said "jimcrackery" and quoted a forgotten album. Hee hee! This actually seems like it might warrant some of the pissiness various people have hurled at "Speed Racer", going by the trailer I just watched. I do like playing with the frame, but if you're saying that it's EVERY SCENE...hmmmm. I'm reminded of what people here have said about abuse of Photoshop effects.
I don't know, maybe it's just a whizbang "Welcome To The Dollhouse", and I don't need that again (though it was well worth watching the first time). I'd be giving it more benefit of the doubt if the trailer didn't say
A
TOUR
DE
FORCE
Ooh, now you're important and not just interesting. I'd be more willing to enjoy the visuals if it wasn't apparently all THAT'S A METAPHOR!. I do like that floral dress though! But for now I'll just listen to "The Jessica Numbers" instead.
Posted by: Jay at May 16, 2008 9:36 AM
It's too bad to hear that this whole thing is so irritating. As someone who has liked a lot of Bruce McDonald movies I was kind of looking forward to it. Perhaps I wont waste my time.
And on the subject of Bruce, has anyone else heard the rumors that there is going to be a sequel to Hard Core Logo? Which I admit will probably be a disaster because if any movie ever left a closed ending it's that one. But still. I'd watch it. (Note: Commenter has insane crush on Hugh Dillon. Opinion should probably be discounted.)
Posted by: Sonia at May 16, 2008 9:48 AM
I saw them on "S e e k i n g R i c h . c o
m",too.Maybe they want to make more new friends.You can contact them on that site.
Posted by: Roy at May 16, 2008 9:53 AM
Emo Phillips plays the therapist?
Posted by: PaddyDog at May 16, 2008 10:06 AM
I loathe movies like this. Granted, I haven't seen it, but after viewing the trailer I had my doubts... I can't stand flicks that are pretentious strictly for the sake of being so. The one question I always find myself asking during lousy flicks? Is it worse than "Gummo"?
That's my standard for shitty movies.
Posted by: Skittimus Maximus at May 16, 2008 10:09 AM
There's so way I'm chomping at the bit to see this. I kinda loathe Bruce Mcdonald (with the exception of Hard Core logo) and find most of his films to be pretentious. More than that, he uses his films to build some sort of false image of himself, like this badass, rock and roll image...which is completely untrue.
My Canadian Cinema prof went off on this 10 minute tangent about why he hates Bruce McDonald, it was great. And yes, I DID take a Canadian Cinema class...and no it wasn't boring, it was fantastic.
Posted by: citizen_cris at May 16, 2008 10:37 AM
Wasn't Mike Figgis' Timecode enough of a lesson?
Why you have to take a stab at Gummo again, Skitt? I thought we laid that discussion to rest...Apparently not, since I just reacted to your comment. Which might fire up the whole thing again. Which would be ironic. Or not? What qualifies as ironic nowadays? I remember reading a discussion 'bout it here. Or was it another board? Can't recall. I'm typing and letters appear on the screen. I could do this all day.
But I won't.
Posted by: Adere at May 16, 2008 10:54 AM
Is it worse than "Gummo"?
No. There is nothing worse than Gummo. Ever.
This sounded good on paper...but it seems like one of those tepid ideas given life gone wrong. Which is a real shame...because I may be in love with Ellen Page. I watched Juno for he first time last week. And I tried not to like it. I knew all the hype, and I willed myself to hate it. And by the end, I was smiling...she had won me over. I'm disappointed she hasn't responded to any of my letters...especially when I sent her a bunch of hair for her doll of me and asked for hers for my doll of her...but I'm sure my persistence and doting attention will win her over. Just like my last three exes...and as soon as they lift the restraining orders (I'm sure their current beaus convinced them to do it out of jealousy)..I'll return their dolls to them.
Posted by: Shadows of Dakaron at May 16, 2008 11:24 AM
Sonia:
HCL2 has been confirmed. I am a confusing mix of excitement and terror at the prospect of a sequel because...how?
(Seriously, how?)
Posted by: Alice at May 16, 2008 11:26 AM
HCL2? That is the strangest shit I have ever heard. HCL is one of my favorite movies and has some of the all time best quotes. But a number 2? Shit, that is totally fucked up. Hugh Dillon totally kicks ass though. If anyone could pull off after HCL ending he could.
Posted by: grinder at May 16, 2008 12:44 PM
I watched about twenty minutes of this, which in its favor, is longer than I lasted through Norbit. But, I did not know that the director of this spastic mess directed DEGRASSI. This show is the greatest gift that Canada has ever given us. Seriously, everyone on that show has had every problem known to man multiple times.
Daddy issues
Mommy issues
pregnancy
abortions
homosexuality
homophobia
adultery
overall skankiness
stabbings
shootings
drag racing
date rape
racism
abandonment
anxiety
alcoholism
being goth
bulimia
cutting
physical abuse
verbal abuse
STD's (all of them)
AIDS
anorexia
being fugly
being bi-polar
being handicapped
penis pumps
edible underwear
stripping
prostitution
etc.
... all of which get solved in convenient 25 minute packages.
Posted by: jM at May 16, 2008 12:48 PM
Alice:
Oh wow, thanks for the news. And yeah, how? I mean I'm very excited for it and no matter what I am going to see it, but right now my brain really can not get past how. (Maybe a ghost? Or something? I don't even know)
Posted by: Sonia at May 16, 2008 1:29 PM
Wait a sec: there is someone on this planet named Slim Twig? Is it a stage name or something? Actually, knowing someone willingly took that name might be worse.
Posted by: Vermillion at May 16, 2008 3:20 PM
I share your high tolerance for indie cinema--I've sat through multiple Chantal Ackerman films, for heavens's sake--but this sounds eminently missable. Good review of an unfortunate project, though. And the Elvis Costello reference definitely earns extra credit.
Posted by: Mr. Atoz at May 16, 2008 3:23 PM
Skitt: Funny you bring up Gummo because the first thing that popped into my head as I read through the ridiculous plot is "Oh dear sweet monkeybutt. Harmony Korine made another piece of shit movie."
Except this one sounds like the spawn of the worst from both Korine and Todd Solodnz. With Gregg Araki as the godfather.
Posted by: Alabamapink at May 16, 2008 3:24 PM
This doesn't have Rivier Phoenix in it!
Posted by: Farfalina at May 16, 2008 4:42 PM
Slim Twig... Looks like we've found BarbadoSlim, and he took on Twig as a surname!
Posted by: Riles at May 16, 2008 7:31 PM
Beginning a list of movies where the split/multiscreen device actually works:
Woodstock
Posted by: bucdaddy at May 18, 2008 4:24 PM
I'm an eighteen year old girl suffering from major depression and bipolar disorder. I loved this movie.
That probably says a lot.
Posted by: Elle at May 18, 2008 8:41 PM
when you're 19 it will all be better.
Posted by: hahaha at May 19, 2008 8:48 PM
Damn.
Posted by: JamesMcDoo at May 20, 2008 2:35 PM
HA, elle.
why are you bragging about it? because you like the idea of your suffering. how lame.
and i bought the book, read not even half, returned it.
Posted by: abitlate at July 28, 2008 12:33 AM
