TILT (2017)

Studio:       The Orchard
Director:    Kasra Farahani
Writer:       Jason O’Leary, Kasra Farahani
Producer:  Giri Tharan, Kristina Kondrath, Kasra Farahani
Stars:     Joseph Cross, Alexia Rasmussen, Jessy Hodges, Kelvin Yu, C.S. Lee

Review Score:

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Summary:

An average man’s mind gradually unravels as the pressures of his personal and professional lives consume him with dark thoughts.

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Synopsis:     Show/Hide Spoilers

While on a Hawaiian getaway with his pregnant wife Joanne, unemployed filmmaker Joseph Burns cleans himself in a public restroom and writes the name Chusuke Hasegawa on a scrap of paper. It is later revealed that Chusuke was an Asian tourist that Joe secretly killed on the trip to satisfy a sudden urge.

Joe and Joanne return to their life in Los Angeles, where Joanne is a nurse attending medical school and Joe works from home on a passion project documentary about American capitalism. Joe feels mounting pressure from the prospect of starting a family without a stable income. Joe’s dark urges continue growing whenever he walks around Los Angeles and observes passersby. Joe Googles Chusuke Hasegawa’s name on two consecutive days, but no search results are found.

Joanne’s friends Kendra and Andy come to the house for dinner with their infant daughter Mia. Joanne gets upset when Joe does not show more enthusiasm over her ultrasound picture. Joe becomes frustrated when the guests pay little attention to his description of the documentary he is devoted to.

Joe dreams of dropping and killing Joanne’s unborn baby. In a sort of daze while digging, Joe inadvertently breaks two of Joanne’s fingers with a shovel as they work together to remove a rock from their backyard.

Joe becomes fixated on a dead animal discovered underneath the house. Joe later puts soggy food pellets and dirty water from their cat’s bowl into a stew he makes for himself and Joanne. While discussing the limited commercial appeal of Joe’s project, each of them pulls an animal hair from their mouths.

Joe’s mental and emotional frustrations continue. Joe follows a man walking on the street while having phone sex with a mistress before going home to his wife and daughter.

While returning from a day spent hiking and canoeing in Angeles National Forest, Joe stops on the side of the highway where a tourist is taking pictures alone. Joe offers to take a picture of the man and an uncomfortable interaction occurs where Joe seemingly considers pushing the man over a ledge. The men are interrupted by the arrival of another vehicle.

On his drive home, Joe intentionally runs over a dog in the street. While washing his bloody clothes at a Laundromat, Joe is haunted by visions of Chusuke Hasegawa.

Joe does another internet search for Chusuke’s name. This time he finds an article reporting on the tourist’s death in Waipio.

Joe approaches a Porsche outside a liquor store with unknown intent, but is frightened away by an initially unseen passenger and the driver’s sudden return. Joe stares at a cinderblock next to a homeless man, but only leaves a bottle of beer before going on his way. That night, Joe contemplates smothering his wife with a pillow.

A package of crib parts arrives at the house. Joe crushes it with his foot and throws it in the trash.

Joanne asks if Joe followed up on her mother’s lead about an assistant editor job. An argument erupts about Joe having to sacrifice his dreams. Joanne counters with the reality that he needs a regular job to provide for their family while she goes to school, as his documentary work simply isn’t profitable.

On Joe’s walk that night, he starts a street fight with three youths and takes a punch to the face. Joe sees a man working in his garage, picks up the man’s power saw, and has a tense conversation before putting down the tool and walking away.

Joe searches Chusuke’s name again and discovers the police now suspect foul play. Joe makes an apology dinner for Joanne and promises to look into the job opportunity.

Joe interviews for the assistant editor position with Doug Park, but Doug tunes out when Joe speaks obliquely about his documentary work. Joanne later catches Joe lashing out in frustration at their vacuum cleaner, after which Joe tells his wife that he doesn’t think he is safe. Joe explains that something is wrong with him and immersing himself in his movie isn’t making him better. Because of the thoughts he is having, Joe is no longer sure who he really is.

Joanne suggests Joe is only stir crazy and needs structure. She recommends that Joe return to work with his previous employer Stan Grossman, an idea Joe dismisses immediately.

Joe’s mind continues unraveling. He receives a voicemail from Detective Mike Abreyu, who is contacting everyone who stayed at the Waipio hotel in connection with Chusuke’s death.

On Halloween, Joe buys shrooms from a teen drug dealer, paints his face with black lipstick, and wanders L.A. Joe ultimately kills the homeless man using the adjacent cinderblock. Joanne comes home to discover Joe is not there.

The following day, Joanne meets with Kendra, who mentions she and Andy both felt something was off with Joe at dinner. Detective Abreyu leaves another voicemail insisting that Joe or Joanne return his urgent message immediately. Joanne returns home to find Joe is still gone.

Joanne wakes up that night and sees Joe standing over her threateningly. Joe begins beating her to death. When Joanne screams to ask why, Joe screams back, “I don’t know.” After killing Joanne, Joe plays his pinball machine in a daze.

Joe buys buckets to dispose of Joanne’s corpse. With his wife’s dead body lying in plastic in the living room, Joanne’s sister comes over and obliviously drops off her baby with Joe without stepping inside. Joanne’s sister leaves. Joe cradles the baby.

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Review:

“Tilt” is not the kind of thriller built from kinetic energy that throttles you at the collar with visceral suspense.  “Tilt” shakes you psychologically.  It ties a knot of haunting tension in your gut and holds it tightly in place through an inescapable sense of disturbing dread dripping from every moment.

The movie’s feel might be likened to “Sun Choke” (review here), “They Look Like People” (review here), even “Nightcrawler” by way of Joe Swanberg or another mumblecore auteur.  Hypnotic hooks hit their targets straight out of the gate.  First glances present an opening credits montage as seemingly low-key shots of L.A. landmarks and businesses.  Except “Tilt” isn’t establishing a location.  It’s establishing atmosphere.  These specific buildings, these particular park vistas, set subtle impressions that shape the tainted feeling of this environment, not just its geography.

Outward appearances also initially sell downtrodden documentarian Joseph Burns as the nice, normal Everyman next door.  But not in the way neighbors commonly claim when a killer is identified after the fact.  Joe isn’t hiding a dark alter ego.  He is being pushed to create one.

A Hawaiian getaway with his pregnant wife Joanne didn’t give Joe the mental reset he’d hoped for.  Coming home to a cramped house, one car, and a landline because he cut his cellphone to save cash, Joe returns to a well-worn rut.

Clinging to a pinch of predominantly imaginary success for a pinball documentary from four years back, Joe’s current passion project is an abstract video essay on American capitalism.  He can’t quite crack it creatively however, and Joe’s doubting support structure can no longer coddle his pipe dream.

The impending baby is the breaking point pressuring Joe into an adulthood of stable income and dinner conversation that isn’t condescending.  Joanne’s friends politely ask what Joe is working on and immediately retune disinterested ears to clanking forks when he drones on about a cultural disruption his unmarketable movie might spark.  It’s a sad moment relatable for anyone who has ever held too long to a “what if?” ideal that simply doesn’t mesh with real world obligations.

“Tilt” examines what happens when a life stuck in idle manifests as darkness instead of as depression.  Uncomfortable urges of your own aren’t required to recognize where Joe is coming from or how he got there.  This is the result of sleepwalking through a marginalized life without pausing to consider how disengaged thoughts conjure whims that cause careless actions.  “Tilt” deconstructs the sociopath archetype and captures his creation at the outset of his disease, making Joe frighteningly reflective of the human condition’s worst capabilities.

Joe isn’t Jeffrey Dahmer.  Not yet anyway.  He is the stranger who gives you a bad vibe when you’re alone in a parking garage.  He is the person standing next to you whose eyes say, “stay away” for reasons you can’t explain.  That guy who took a picture of you and a friend in a restaurant that one time?  What if the hand that held your phone once strangled a neck, or put a knife in someone’s stomach?

You know Joe.  If you don’t, you’ve encountered him before.  Any seemingly ordinary person could be one more disappointment, setback, or daily disturbance away from becoming him, and that is what makes Joe’s descent terrifying.  Sheep’s clothing has replaced his skin, making his evolving evil impossible to outwardly identify.

Often unnoticed, yet deliberate details tell their own tales in “Tilt.”  The film doesn’t force anyone to look at Joanne’s wedding ring with a conspicuous closeup.  But those who happen to spot it can see it is a simple gold band.  The absence of a diamond tells a story about Joe and Joanne settling for what is achievable while putting on a pretense of something else.

The sadness to “Tilt’s” personality portrait may alienate some while others may not see the mirror Joe holds up to our personal abysses.  Love, luck, and prosperity steer normal minds from weighing such considerations, although seeing one’s own potential for extremes is not the only way to connect to “Tilt.”

“Tilt” tells a story, but it is more about mood created through character behavior.  Deceptively simple cinematics then maintain that mood in a sideways skew.  Scenes seem innocuous.  There isn’t much outward action.  But a sickly green hue, silent stares, creeping zooms, and unsettling music infuse insidious undertones into every inch of the screen.  Through its performances, direction, and cinematography, “Tilt” creates a texture that crawls under your skin and commands you to be spellbound by its eeriness.

Review Score:  85

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