A singer in New York gets a grim diagnosis that puts her life and dreams into perspective.
I don’t think Sarah Jessica Parker is suited for serious drama, or at least it didn’t work too well for her in “Here and Now.” What was meant to translate as tension and anxiety translates to stiff and awkward as Parker navigates her way through a territory quite familiar to Parker’s former “Sex and the City” character Carrie Bradshaw. It’s unsettling. You may feel as if you’re living in an alternate universe. It’s hard not to associate Sarah Jessica Parker with the fun-loving, frivolous, and sometimes witty Carrie. But she has proved she can be just as exceptional with roles like Frances in HBO’s “Divorce.” She’s no Carrie Bradshaw in that and it’s delightful. But “Here and Now” is a bleak, emotional train wreck, low key drama. Parker’s performance is stilted and frustrating. But she’s not alone, as all performances seemed awkward and jagged. Stilted, jagged, boring, and lazy sum it up perfectly.
So, what is “Here and Now” about? Essentially death, time, panic, and regret. Sarah Jessica Parker is Vivienne, a jazz lounge singer who has had modest success. She has regular gigs and tours. And there is an upcoming tour. But her whole life is thrown in and out of perspective after receiving the discouraging news that she has an aggressive brain tumor that requires surgery and even with surgery she may only live up to 14 months. Significantly less if she decides to not have surgery. The film follows her through a 24-hour period after hearing this news.
Viv leaves the hospital in a beautifully pleated flowy skirt, sky-high heels, and a thin denim blouse, perfectly casual chic, walking to her next destination. Her face is stone but she exudes a subtle agitation within her movements, constantly fiddling and nervously listening to stern smothering messages from her French mother (Jacqueline Bisset). She’s late to a rehearsal, and her manager (Common) minimally chides her. In fact, dialogue is minimal throughout the film. Body language, mumbles, and whispers fill in the blanks and it’s up to the audience to take this information and imagine Vivienne’s life both past and present. You don’t really know what she’s like. You only know her today. Deciphering who Vivienne is could be interesting but by the time you even start to think about it, you’re already too bored to care. Half the time you forget why you’re following Viv around the city. You gather up facts about her. She’s a singer (not a particularly good one), is screwing her drummer, and has a 16-year-old daughter that she doesn’t see enough. The nuances and subtleties of Viv’s life are clumsily present.
The Lyft driver, Sami (Waleed Zuaiter), is just about the only redeeming character. He’s a mysterious force and beacon of control and reality on this particular day of Viv’s life. I wish the whole film was Viv riding around with Sami. The scenes with Parker and Zuaiter successfully display the moments of tension and tenderness that the film as a whole lacked or rather attempted but failed. “Here and Now” is just too demure to invoke any real feeling (other than lethargy) from the audience. Unless you want to watch Sarah Jessica Parker walk around in the same outfit for an hour and a half, having half conversations with people, and fidget, then “Here and Now” isn’t for you.
Available on DVD January 22nd
