Cast: Holly Hunter, Danny DeVito, Queen Latifah, Martin Donovan, Richard Schiff, Elias Koteas
Director: Richard LaGravenese
Producers: Danny DeVito, Michael Shamberg, Stacey Sher
Screenplay: Richard LaGravenese
Cinematography: John Bailey
Music: George Fenton
U.S. Distributor: New Line Cinema
The best thing about Richard LaGravenese's directorial debut, Living Out Loud, are the characters; the minimal plot is almost inconsequential. For those familiar with LaGravenese's work as a screenwriter (he penned the adaptation of The Bridges of Madison County), this will come as no surprise. His strength is developing multidimensional, wholly believable protagonists. In this film, which draws its inspiration from the Anton Chekhov short stories "The Kiss" and "Misery," they are Judith (Holly Hunter) and Pat (Danny DeVito), two lonely, middle-aged New Yorkers who find a measure of comfort in each other's company.
As the movie opens, Judith and Pat are both picking through the wreckage of collapsed existences. Judith, a nurse who has been dumped by her wealthy doctor/husband of 16 years, doesn't seem to know what to do with her life, because, at least in part, her identity was defined by her husband. No matter what went wrong, she could always rely on saying, "At least I'm married. At least I'm safe." But no longer. Pat, the doorman at the apartment building where she lives, is at a similar dead-end junction. His marriage is over, his daughter has recently died, and he's up to his ears in gambling debts. Somehow, he and Judith connect, and what begins as a form of casual interplay blossoms into a friendship that offers comfort to both of them.
As in all movies of this sort, romance seemingly must infiltrate the story. To LaGravenese's credit, he avoids most of the clichés. The formula, which is not adhered to, is that the two leads fall for each other, avoid talking about their feelings for fear that they aren't mutual, then eventually open up and live happily ever after. In Living Out Loud, it's a case of gentle, unrequited love. Pat gradually becomes infatuated with Judith, but her feelings towards him remain platonic. To her, he's a reliable companion but not a good partner -- she's looking for something more spontaneous and romantic in a relationship. Then, one night at a jazz club, she encounters the unexpected when a mysterious stranger kisses her.
Obviously, the friendship is at the core of Living Out Loud. It's carefully developed never to go too far too fast, and both of the characters are intensely sympathetic. Judith can unburden her soul to Pat, telling him her secrets, and, although his feelings for her run deeper, he is content to fulfill that role. They soothe each other's wounds. Danny DeVito brings an aura of quiet poignancy to his character - the lonely man in search of some kind of meaningful human interaction. Holly Hunter employs her considerable acting skills to fashion Judith into a real (as opposed to idealized) woman. She can be selfish and insensitive. She's a chain smoker who drinks and experiments with drugs, and would rather have sex with a handsome gigolo than with her dumpy-looking best friend. These two actors effectively complement each other, and the chemistry between them works because nothing is overplayed.
While all of this is serious material, LaGravenese manages to give Living Out Loud a light (and occasionally quirky) touch by mixing in frequent doses of comedy and fantasy. Both characters are capable of laughing at their own failings, and they sometimes find themselves in absurd situations. From time-to-time, we see events from two different perspectives - as they really are and as Judith dreams they might be. These refreshing and often unexpected breaks keep us on our toes. Living Out Loud is not a monumental motion picture. In fact, in many ways, it's quite the opposite - a quiet, unassuming story of friendship and love that uses richly-developed characters to charm its audience.
© 1998 James Berardinelli