Less Is Always More in 'Charlotte Sometimes'

By Tommy Tung

The indie gem, "Charlotte Sometimes," proves that subtlety and economy of expression can speak volumes about the human condition. Whereas many romance flicks rely upon verbal dramatization, Eric Byler's first directed feature subdues the audience with tacit performances. The dialogue, when occasionally present, is carried by sparse words and heavy pauses. Such laconism gives "Charlotte Sometimes" its unique strength by letting the images do the talking.

The first few minutes of the film establish the character of Michael (Michael Idemoto) through only visuals-a montage of his daily routine. We watch him as a mechanic by day and a loner by night. Sometimes, he frequents a local nightclub, but most nights, he reads while the sexual moans of his neighbor Lori (Eugenia Yuan) seep into his Silver Lake apartment. Postcoital, her hunky boyfriend Justin (Matt Westmore) sleeps while Lori tiptoes upstairs to watch a movie with Michael. Long after the movie is over, she is asleep on Michael's shoulder, and he is gazing upon her. His eyes tell us that this, sadly enough, will be the most intimate moment between them.

A chance encounter with Darcy (Jacqueline Kim) affords Michael the opportunity to end his insipid lifestyle. She claims many things, among them being a writer and a transient. Even though Darcy warns Michael, "Men don't really want to be with me, they only think they do," the two begin a relationship against their better judgment. The love rectangle that forms in this Silver Lake duplex comes with realistic consequence and unabashed honesty. We're in short supply of films of such artistic integrity.

Also admirable are the characters for their unflinching independence. They don't compromise. They make love and war. They demand fulfillment instead of pining for it. The script would have benefited from more externalization of Michael since his reticence obstructs our ability to fully empathize. Still, Idemoto's Zen-like stoicism is powerfully implicit. Yuan deftly plays Lori with blithe abandon and tenderness. Kim commands the most deliciously shrewd character of Darcy with aplomb. At times, Darcy's smile is an enigma. Other times, her curled lips sing utter mischief. Asian Americans comprise the handsome cast but their cultural backgrounds don't beg for significance like other self-aware films. Ethnic undertones in the scenes suffice.

The soundtrack by Michael Brook and Cody Chestnutt lends great texture to the visual style of jump cut editing mixed with classical continuity-a wonderful marriage of sight and sound, appropriately so for complex character psychology and nuanced storytelling. Observing the intelligence of his story, the maturation of characters, and the technical wizardry on a meager budget, I surmise that Byler is off to a promising start as a feature filmmaker, having already exemplified an aphorism of Alfred Hitchcock: "Dialogue should simply be a sound among other sounds, just something that comes out of the mouths of people whose eyes tell the story in visual terms."

July 2, 2003