Directed by Kent Jones and written by Samy Burch, based on the novella of the same name by Arthur Schnitzler, legendary New York poet Ed Saxberger’s forgotten works captivate an eccentric group of young creatives, reigniting his artistic passion. Their intrigue intertwines with the bewitching presence of actress Gloria. Starring: Willem Dafoe, Greta Lee, Jake Lacy, Graham Campbell, Edmund Donovan, Clark Johnson, Stephen Badalamenti and William Hill.
Firstly, it is fascinating that a novella written in 1895 remains ever relevant in its tale of idols, vanity and narcissism, if anything all of those themes have simply intensified over the years. So, Late Fame very clearly has a timely story to tell, and choosing Willem Dafoe to lead it was certainly no misstep, he gives a great performance and his chemistry with Greta Lee is both fun and incredibly sad. The problem is, the two of them and that connection would be better suited to a film that could truly keep up.
The two of them create characters with complexity and so many layers to unpack but Late Fame never fully gives them the space to reach that potential. Instead, it remains in an average realm, held back by its penchant for being performative and pretentious. Granted, the majority of that pretention is intentionally coming from its characters, but you have to make a concerted effort to prevent that from infecting the overall tone and atmosphere of the film, and we don’t get that here.
There’s also a scattered quality to Late Fame, it doesn’t truly feel like it’s building upon itself and getting somewhere, it feels a touch confused and stuck, living within an extended awkward moment which feels bound for disappointment. Its young characters pine for an age that will never return and to be a part of a society for which most of its members have long passed, and that comes with a somewhat dour note. As if it’s exploring what it means to live an unremarkable life when you can’t help but want what is out of your reach, which does have value, but it struggles to make its mark here.
It is however shot well, the cinematography from Wyatt Garfield nicely taps into the poetic theme, as well as that constant longing for the golden age of literary NYC. It has a great warmth and colour, there’s an intimacy to it which pairs well with Kent Jones’ direction. There’s an old-school style to the direction, a quietness and reflective quality.
Late Fame has a good, relevant story to tell but it gets too caught up in its egos, bravado and fanboying to truly get somewhere interesting. Willem Dafoe and Greta Lee are both genuinely excellent and had they had material with a bit more depth to work with, these performances could have been even more memorable. Although it certainly does capture how suited Lee is to a role set in the golden age of Hollywood. Luca Padovan also showed a lot of promise here, it’s a shame his character doesn’t get more screen time. The aesthetic is great and there are some good elements at work but too much of it feels plain or stalled, spending too much time in awkward moments, and not enough in real emotion.
FilmCarnage.com 