‘Avenues’: Michael Angarano’s Directorial Debut Is A Promising Effort About The Jokes We Use To Mask Grief [Review]

When a first-time director begins their film with a series of beautifully composed shots of Manhattan, juxtaposed against a backdrop of simple piano notes, one cannot escape an undesirable comparison to Woody Allen. And when you cast yourself as the cynical, yet charming, lead character who garrulously waxes about believing in God once, the similarity grows even more noticeable. So, while Michael Angarano’s supple debut feature, “Avenues,” certainly is heavily indebted to the spirit romantic/comedic of Woody Allen (minus the icky problematic-ness), the movie aspires to be much more than just tribute; subtly unfurling itself as a Richard Linklater/’Before’-style bromance, not just another film about a self-involved, desperate chatterbox who’d like to get laid when he goes out for his birthday celebration later that night.

Max (Angarano) is currently wandering through his existence freezing cold and hunched over, huddling his coat. He worries he’s a Llewyn Davis-type loser – he doesn’t currently have a job and he’s sleeping on his sister Maggie’s (Maya Kazan) couch. She’s going through troubles of her own – recently breaking up with her boyfriend and started seeing an ex-convict, Vinny (Greg Vrotsos), convicted of manslaughter (a small detail that sets up a really smart, scripted pay off) – but what’s really brought Max and Maggie closer together is the suicide of their brother, Jack. Peter (Nicholas Braun), Max’s close friend, is a sex therapist in town for some business, but seemingly has visited just as an excuse to see how his old buddy is doing, as well as escape from his own long-distance relationship turmoil for at least a brief respite.

After opening a letter from Jack— Max not exactly diligent about going through his mail— the two pals go out for Indian food, and end up meeting two friendly ladies, Brooke (Ari Graynor) and Halley (Adelaide Clemens), whom Max clearly wishes to get to know better. Halley seems suggestively taken with Peter— despite his insistence that he wishes to be loyal to his girlfriend—and Brooke and Max hit it off pretty well, despite his smarmy mouth getting him in trouble more than a few times which is expectedly on brand. They plan to meet up again at a bar tonight in honor of the birthday boy.

Angarano has worked with some talented people throughout his career and the formal aptitude of this directorial effort makes it apparent that he’s likely listened to and learned from seasoned industry professionals throughout his career, perhaps most noticeably Steven Soderbergh (“High Flying Bird”). There’s quite a lot of soft focus and many scenes are shot in single takes, or with simple coverage, adding a rural texture to the film— like much of Peter Andrews’ work, naturally lighting temperature is often embedded into the composition. A few editing decisions— a jump cut here, some obvious ellipsis there—distract on a few different accounts, but these choices don’t draw too much unnecessary attention to themselves.

“Avenues” moves at a brisk pace, which is a no easy feat considering most of the sequences are built around big emotional confrontations. Juno Temple’s one explosive scene is a testament to the film’s assured structure. The movie manages to feel as emotionally heavy as it needs to be, while also often providing wonderful light comic touches along the way. While the dramatic stakes perhaps one-up themselves one time too many times towards the climax, the heightened conflict is subtly set up in a clever manner by the director’s confidently written screenplay. Graynor and Clemens each turn in refreshingly honest performances, and Braun is just great, coming off as the condescending Adam Driver-esque best friend.

Angarano is no acting slouch either (his work on Soderbergh’s “The Knick” raised eyebrows to untapped potential) and you can feel throughout the film what an honest piece his debut feature is. How is one supposed to react upon receiving a letter from a dead loved one? Ultimately, “Avenues” is about a measured jokey person who uses that persona that’s used to mask grief. Sure, Max is selfish and self-obsessed with giving off an air of quippy cleverness, but the movie eventually reveals his true burden and the constant smile he employs to hide his sadness. He’s easy to write off as a narcissistic wanderer, but much like Coen Brother’s film, the movie builds to a moment where a musical track (an aptly placed Cigarettes After Sex song) reveals the troubles he just can’t admit to himself or anyone around him.

“Avenues” will inevitably be compared to an array of New York romance dramedy flicks you’ve seen all too many times before, but it would be a mistake to dismiss it as just a derivative knock off. All relationships are complicated, even those with the dead. Michael Angarano’s introduction to the cinematic world as a filmmaker is a promising effort and a reminder that those whom we hold dear in our hearts is a story that never passes away. [B]