Crashing, Directed by Gary Walkow
Screenshots from a scene in Gary Walkow's film Crashing, 2007.
Acquaintance and Cantaraville author (find his poetry in Cantaraville Two) Gary Walkow's 2007 Slamdance-entry film Crashing was finally released on DVD December 16, 2008. Campbell Scott stars in this wicked tale of writer's block, with Alex Kingston, David Cross, my beloved Stephen Gyllenhaal, and the new hotties in town Izabella Miko and Lizzy Caplan.
Crashing is a brilliant film, possibly the most accurate portrayal of the creative process of writing fiction. But it's also a film that's just too much in its own head, that's just more than a little bit masturbatory, to the detriment of the narrative. Story? Through the flimsiest of plot contrivances, a handsome, successful middle-aged novelist ends up crashing on the couch of two roommates, fetching young college students who are also aspiring writers. Complications ensue. He writes about them, they write about him. Writing equals sexual fantasy. They all fuck each other eventually, or try to. Ejaculation/elimination problems equal writers block. Fantasy/real coitus interruptus equals an interruption in the writing process. The most flesh exposed is Campbell Scott's, thank you.
But the dialogue is yummy, flirtatiously intellectual and, remarkably, the two roommates are sharp, sexy, interesting and individuated. Crashing has all the makings of a cult favorite. I know I'll be recommending it to writer friends, and not just because of the girls, Scott, or even Stephen.
Acquaintance and Cantaraville author (find his poetry in Cantaraville Two) Gary Walkow's 2007 Slamdance-entry film Crashing was finally released on DVD December 16, 2008. Campbell Scott stars in this wicked tale of writer's block, with Alex Kingston, David Cross, my beloved Stephen Gyllenhaal, and the new hotties in town Izabella Miko and Lizzy Caplan.
Crashing is a brilliant film, possibly the most accurate portrayal of the creative process of writing fiction. But it's also a film that's just too much in its own head, that's just more than a little bit masturbatory, to the detriment of the narrative. Story? Through the flimsiest of plot contrivances, a handsome, successful middle-aged novelist ends up crashing on the couch of two roommates, fetching young college students who are also aspiring writers. Complications ensue. He writes about them, they write about him. Writing equals sexual fantasy. They all fuck each other eventually, or try to. Ejaculation/elimination problems equal writers block. Fantasy/real coitus interruptus equals an interruption in the writing process. The most flesh exposed is Campbell Scott's, thank you.
But the dialogue is yummy, flirtatiously intellectual and, remarkably, the two roommates are sharp, sexy, interesting and individuated. Crashing has all the makings of a cult favorite. I know I'll be recommending it to writer friends, and not just because of the girls, Scott, or even Stephen.
