In 2009 actor Joaquin Phoenix appeared on the Late Show with David Letterman as a dishevelled, spaced-out madman. His bushy beard, dark sunglasses and slurred sentences suggested that the Academy Award nominee had lost touch with his career and his own sensibilities. This interview was meant to be a promotion for Phoenix's turn into rap music. This mockumentary is set before and after the infamous interview, with Phoenix's brother-in-law Casey Affleck looking to record his transition from Hollywood star to rap rookie. The film pry's open Phoenix's decent into madness as he pursues drugs, hookers and even some help from musician turned actor Sean 'P. Diddy' Combs. Gradually, Phoenix's erratic behaviour and weirdness takes a toll on his friendships and his image in the media's spotlight. The question that has surrounded the film though is "was any of it actually real?"
Prior to seeing I'm Still Here I was disappointed that director Casey Affleck announced that his film was a fake. I expected this to break the illusion of his mockumentary. The decision was presumably made by Affleck to save his reputation as much as Phoenix's from near-ruins. How could he let his brother-in-law capitulate like this and what was the point of recording it? To answer this, it's important to note that Affleck has described the project as not a hoax but a film in a number of interviews. Beneath the wreckage of I'm Still Here, specifically the crude behaviour of Phoenix, the film's over length and its moments of sheer self-indulgence, there is a message here that sustains, regardless of whether we know the film is a fake or not. It comes through most immediately when Phoenix opts to sleep through the Obama Inauguration on television. The idea of American accomplishment is a frequently unreliable one for him. His attempts to move away from the boundaries of Hollywood only lead him to another industry that is just as regulated. He quickly discovers that life is a lot harder without the red carpet. He has to wait on other people to contact him for once. His team can't even arrange a company car for him and he takes great offence to people asking if his career change is a hoax. As much fun as it is to be in on Casey Affleck's 'joke', since there are awkward moments of hilarity, I'm Still Here is acceptable as a proper satirical film because of its messages about celebrity culture, the highs and more frequent lows.
What is most surprising about I'm Still Here is how involving it becomes because of the authenticity with which it has been made. The film looks deliberately grubby. It's been shot with a shaky hand-held camera to provide the regularly muddy visuals and natural lighting. Small touches, like the way Affleck's camera peers 'secretly' on the edge of a doorway as Phoenix talks to someone, add to the film's illusion. There has been some thought placed into to film's ugliness but there's also a lack of restraint too. There are a lot of scenes that have presumably not been cut to give an authentic edge, but it wears us down with its claustrophobia. The centre of the film belongs to Phoenix and whether this is an act or not he is a truly convincing crackpot, through and through. His capitulation, through not only his disintegrating looks but his treatment of his friends seems so real it becomes almost unbearable to watch. Testament to Phoenix's 'performance' is that despite knowing the film isn't real, it still becomes involving. When the film returns to the Letterman interview and we hear the audience laughing, there is a different set of emotions for us having seen Phoenix's self-destruction to get here. Rather ironically, it makes us feel for him.
I'm Still Here has a number of interesting elements that elevate it beyond an extremely elaborate joke. The indistinguishable moments shared between what is real and fake and the ideas surrounding celebrity culture are encapsulated in Phoenix's regularly disturbing 'performance'. It is a shame that for many viewers these merits will be lost to the film's grating flaws. The roughness of the picture, specifically how long some scenes are and how juvenile the behaviour becomes, will for many make this a regularly confronting and difficult film to sit through.
Prior to seeing I'm Still Here I was disappointed that director Casey Affleck announced that his film was a fake. I expected this to break the illusion of his mockumentary. The decision was presumably made by Affleck to save his reputation as much as Phoenix's from near-ruins. How could he let his brother-in-law capitulate like this and what was the point of recording it? To answer this, it's important to note that Affleck has described the project as not a hoax but a film in a number of interviews. Beneath the wreckage of I'm Still Here, specifically the crude behaviour of Phoenix, the film's over length and its moments of sheer self-indulgence, there is a message here that sustains, regardless of whether we know the film is a fake or not. It comes through most immediately when Phoenix opts to sleep through the Obama Inauguration on television. The idea of American accomplishment is a frequently unreliable one for him. His attempts to move away from the boundaries of Hollywood only lead him to another industry that is just as regulated. He quickly discovers that life is a lot harder without the red carpet. He has to wait on other people to contact him for once. His team can't even arrange a company car for him and he takes great offence to people asking if his career change is a hoax. As much fun as it is to be in on Casey Affleck's 'joke', since there are awkward moments of hilarity, I'm Still Here is acceptable as a proper satirical film because of its messages about celebrity culture, the highs and more frequent lows.
What is most surprising about I'm Still Here is how involving it becomes because of the authenticity with which it has been made. The film looks deliberately grubby. It's been shot with a shaky hand-held camera to provide the regularly muddy visuals and natural lighting. Small touches, like the way Affleck's camera peers 'secretly' on the edge of a doorway as Phoenix talks to someone, add to the film's illusion. There has been some thought placed into to film's ugliness but there's also a lack of restraint too. There are a lot of scenes that have presumably not been cut to give an authentic edge, but it wears us down with its claustrophobia. The centre of the film belongs to Phoenix and whether this is an act or not he is a truly convincing crackpot, through and through. His capitulation, through not only his disintegrating looks but his treatment of his friends seems so real it becomes almost unbearable to watch. Testament to Phoenix's 'performance' is that despite knowing the film isn't real, it still becomes involving. When the film returns to the Letterman interview and we hear the audience laughing, there is a different set of emotions for us having seen Phoenix's self-destruction to get here. Rather ironically, it makes us feel for him.
I'm Still Here has a number of interesting elements that elevate it beyond an extremely elaborate joke. The indistinguishable moments shared between what is real and fake and the ideas surrounding celebrity culture are encapsulated in Phoenix's regularly disturbing 'performance'. It is a shame that for many viewers these merits will be lost to the film's grating flaws. The roughness of the picture, specifically how long some scenes are and how juvenile the behaviour becomes, will for many make this a regularly confronting and difficult film to sit through.