Quiet film about intersecting lives has much to say about everyday life
September 2, 2009
By Jimmy Gillman
13 Conversations About One Thing
Sony Pictures Classics; 2001; 94 minutes; R, for mild violence, sexual situations, adult themes and language; Directed by Jill Sprecher; Starring: Matthew McConaughey, John Turturro, Alan Arkin, Clea Duvall, Amy Irving and Barbara Sukowa; Screenwriter(s): Jill Sprecher and Karen Sprecher
***
Everyone wants to be happy (well, practically everyone). And certainly, few of us really want to be unhappy. From the moment we become conscious, we bend and shape our every action in the simple pursuit of happiness. But happiness is a fragile commodity, and it’s a concept as well as a state of mind that can be conceived of in many different ways.
Even our own conception of happiness changes with circumstances and age, often appearing as an elusive goal just beyond our reach. And happiness is far more complex than a simple emotion that can be summarily summoned from within—sometimes happiness must be aided by forces outside us or given us without forethought.
In director Jill Sprecher’s uniquely constructed “13 Conversations About One Thing,” the nature of happiness, and the diverse methods we employ to acquire it, take center stage. Sprecher, a Wisconsin native who was born and raised in Madison, and who obtained her undergraduate degree from the University of Wisconsin, has fashioned an expressive, introspective potpourri of adult learning and yearning, a substantial upgrade in heft compared to her debut feature, 1997’s “Clockwatchers.”
“13 Conversations” is an enthralling ensemble piece, written by the director and her sister, Karen Sprecher, that features a handful of fine performers and a script infused with feeling and nuance. It also features an inventive timeline that uses a combination of flashbacks and flash-forwards in an episodic structure to create a Möbius Strip-like affect that adds to the intrigue of the multiple and interconnected storylines and the overall impact of the film’s denouement.
There are no sickly sweet moments (despite a few melodramatic ones) to detract from Sprecher’s proffer of modern day reality, giving the film an appropriately serious tone with only occasional flights of maudlin. That may be precisely what the director intended, however, and her willingness to resist the urge to mimic Woody Allen makes her characters and what they have to say all the more authentic.
It’s a formula that has been used many times before, but given the caliber of the results achieved here, one hopes Sprecher endeavors to make another film.
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