Theater
actors, especially those of the musical variety, are taught to play to the back
of the room. When these performances are captured on film, the result often has
me feeling as though I were given front-row seats to one of these performances.
Watching Richard LaGravenese’s film version of The Last Five Years, I was able to imagine the appeal of its
theatrical show, while desperately wishing I could move to the back of a
non-existent theater. Some things are unattractive so close, and however
effective these two stars may have been onstage, I couldn’t help but be
distracted by all of the nose flairs and big mannerisms that came with close-up
shots of actors as they belt out lyrics.
This isn’t
entirely the fault of stars Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan, because a lot of
the unsettling effect came from LaGravenese’s directorial choices. It is
contradictory to film a musical with a sense of realism. Whether the choice for
the hand-held close-ups was for budgetary concerns or stylistic, it feels in
direct conflict with the suspension of disbelief needed for musical theater.
There is something jarring about watching an actor aggressively singing lyrics
while riding in a crammed elevator full of people. This occurs twice within the
film, with the high definition presentation even capturing the spit as it comes
from Jordan
But it is not
just social courtesy which makes this film far from relatable. The characters
are both rather petty and self-involved, artists who justify their own selfish
actions while pretending that they are capable of loving anyone more than they
love themselves. Even that could have been endurable with a collection of solid
musical numbers, as they take up more running time than any dialogue, but every
song quickly blends together in an easily forgettable and often irritating
collection of songs. With unlikable characters, blandly annoying music, and
frustratingly unfitting direction, only the plot remains to retain audience
interest. If only there was one.
The Last Five Years is essentially just
a break-up film like many before it, made unique only by the unconventional
narrative structure and the fact that the two characters in the relationship
together are artists of sorts. Jamie Wellerstein (Jordan
Jamie is also
far from innocent in the inevitable disintegration of their marriage, turning
to adultery as an answer to Cathy’s bitterness over his success. I wish that I
could go into greater detail about the depth of their relationship or the
problems that tear them apart, but the film mostly just shows repeated
sequences of these same two problems. The only thing holding it together for an
adequate running time is the non-consecutive narrative structure. We are given
both sides of the story, with Jamie’s perspective told from the beginning
onward while Cathy’s story begins at the end and moves backwards. This might
have been effective if there were two sides of the story to be told, as the
film’s tagline suggests, but the opposing viewpoints add no new perspectives to
the predictably derivative narrative.
The Blu-ray
release doesn’t offer much in terms of the high definition presentation (aside
from the aforementioned visible spittle), though the special features are
directed at fans of the material. Despite my lack of connection with the
musical contributions, these remain the focus of the extras with a set of
sing-along subtitles and a brief conversation with composer/lyricist Jason
Robert Brown.
Entertainment Value:
4.5/10
Quality of
Filmmaking: 4/10
Historical
Significance: 3/10
Special Features: 3.5/10
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