Alice, a single mother, is a dedicated senior plant breeder at a corporation engaged in developing new species. Against company policy, she takes one home as a gift for her teenage son, Joe.
Filmmaker Jessica Hausner deconstructs the beloved classic “Little Shop of Horrors” in her latest, minimalist sci-fi drama “Little Joe.” Imagine Frank Oz’s film — now substitute the “little shop” with a plant breeding corporation, and the “horror” with “middling suspense”; take away the musical numbers and replace them with extended, monotone passages of dialogue. Artfully shot, Hausner takes a stab at some compelling themes – nature vs. nurture, a mother’s bond with her son, obsession, the very meaning of “love” – but she shoots herself in the foot by both over-explaining everything and dragging it out to an extreme degree.
Like “Little Shop,” “Little Joe” is about a malevolent plant that basically makes its owner its slave. Aubrey II demanded to be fed; Little Joe demands to be loved and protected, at all costs. The plant, which gives off an odor that makes people feel elated, is named after the son of one of its creators, Alice (Emily Beecham). Alice is a senior breeder at the aforementioned corporation, consisting of enormous greenhouses filled with hundreds of the blossoming red flowers. Led by the kooky Karl (David Wilmot), Alice, along with her colleagues – potential love interest Chris (Ben Whishaw) and borderline-psychotic Bella (Kerry Fox) – are perfecting their creation for an upcoming major floral competition.
But then Little Joe starts emitting a strange pollen that makes people change, almost imperceptibly. They seem to become enamored with the plant, dedicating their lives to its protection while still acknowledging their existing personalities. Alice is in denial at first – but when she takes one of the plants home, as a gift for her son, Joe (Kit Connor), she begins to realize that it may indeed be having an alienating effect: Joe becomes distant, gets a girlfriend, speaks of living with his estranged father in the wilderness, and even engages in a violent encounter with Alice. Is it the plant? Or the perils of puberty?
There’s no faulting the film’s visual aesthetic. Cinematographer Martin Gschlacht’s shots are sterile, geometrical, the pastel color palette both cold and comforting. The costumes and production design are equally top-notch. The actors all commit to their roles, Beecham in particular finding nuance in the most imperceptible of gestures. Shame that the film never gathers any sort of momentum, failing to find a strong hook to counterbalance all the sterility. Conversations are, for the most part, hushed, as are the “thrills and chills.” Hausner oddly decides to resolve everything with a more-or-less definitive statement, consequently ridding the feature of its beguiling ambiguity. Those looking for cerebral thrills will be severely underwhelmed.
It’s disheartening to see such a noble effort not quite work out. “Little Joe” has all the right elements in place that just don’t quite gel. At one point, I looked at my watch and realized I was only 30 minutes into the 105-minute feature — and my heart sank. Pardon the easy simile, but the experience of watching Hausner’s feature is like watching grass grow.
In Theaters Friday, December 6th
You saved me from sitting through this film. Thanks. I appreciate an honest review as well as the ability to see where someone is trying to go but doesn\’t quite make it. Your review is fair to both the film and the viewer.