Here Lies Joe [2016]
Film Review
by Ethan Stamper
“Joe, a suicidal man, attends a support group where he meets Z, a disarming and troubled young woman who leads him on a series of adventures that change his outlook on life.” [IMDb]
TRAILER
Fashioned in a familiarity that is quasi-Shakespearean in nature, Here Lies Joe is a 23 minute flair of gallows humor. A credit to the artistry of co-writer (with Pamela Conway), cinematographer and director Mark Battle, and stars Dean Temple and Andi Morrow, Here Lies Joe narrows in on the dark and isolated core of the human psyche and issues a poetic tale of mental anguish and hope that is enlivened by cogent performances and befitting cinematography. Combined, the result is a stirring work that exhibits the neglected and oft-tabooed misfortunes of the multitudes.
Shadowing a suicidal former english teacher, Here Lies Joe takes root at a Suicide Anonyomous meeting, where first timer Joe finds himself situated amongst a peculiar group, all with varying degrees of mental affliction. Headed by self-proclaimed suicide addict named Bill (the always effective Timothy J. Cox), his group discussion is soon interrupted when another, apparently frequent, attendee barges in, the free-spirited albeit troubled fellow traveler named Z (Andi Morrow).
With an intrigue from first sight, Joe and Z soon form a connection, setting events in motion that alter the course of their uncertain existence.
Opening with an unexpected startling scene of despondency, this short hits heavy immediately. In an appropriate convention, this stays true throughout the duration, without being so thick that it overshadows the various themes of the film. Here Lies Joe deals with grave matters (pun intended), and giving the film the required gravity in an otherwise lighter reflection is of serious finesse.
The story itself is inherently dark and reassuring. It gives an organic depiction of mental fragility with two distinctly different personalities, and comes packaged with a message of hope at long last. It conveys that no matter how dark the walk, life is fluid and unpredictable, and a light is out there.
Moreover, it is very exposed, but not completely so. The essential particulars are out in the open, but the inflection point that dictated these events is left to interpretation, residing in subtext. Although this hinders character development to a small degree, it adds a great deal of value to the principal of the story. At a certain point, the why becomes irrelevant, and that is illustrated here.
Effectively, Here Lies Joe exploits the talents of its collaboration to perfection and is awarded with the lifeblood of the production: the aforementioned cogent performances and befitting cinematography.
Dean Temple and Andi Morrow both excel in their respective roles. They operate as opposite sides of the same coin, different yet one and the same. The performances are believable and carry an air of authenticity for their characters, and the chemistry is knife and fork.
Joe, as a character, is quiet and reserved. His past is suffocating his present, leaving him an empty vessel searching for a way out. Temple’s portrayal is on-brand as he not only looks the part with a disheveled appearance, but he captures the essence of a dimmed light through mannerisms, expressions, or lack thereof, and demeanor.
Z, Morrow’s antithesis to Temple’s Joe, was equally amazing. Z‘s character is spirited and concealed. She is a complicated mess beneath her carefree veneer, confined in an ambivalent condition. Morrow is natural in her portrayal, and her ability to wear various masks without feeling forced is impressive. But most importantly, she brings necessary color to a character that demands it.
Of note, there is an instance in this film that is uniquely sad. Z is accused of faking her illness for attention. This shameful scenario is all too real as mental illness is routinely written off as being for attention… until it isn’t. I certainly appreciate the due diligence and applaud the decision to include.
Furthermore, Battle’s cinematography is on point. The decision to make use of barren and grotesque scenery, along with a consistently flat and deep tone, gives the film an atmosphere that matches the depressed disposition of the characters. It keeps the film in a perpetual state of fitting emptiness, which enhances the overall dynamic, and relays the collective experience to the viewers.
On another note, I felt the dialogue was far too minimal. While the discourse was mostly meaningful when it occurred, more dialogue would have allowed for a better association with the characters, granted this may have been done for effect.
In the end, Here Lies Joe is a provocative and interesting watch. It takes on the sensitive subject of suicide with confidence, and hits home that there is always an unexpected light lurking amid the darkness. Knitted together with believable performances and expressive camerawork, Here Lies Joe will take you on an emotional ride.
Highly recommended. 8/10.
