Showing Sydney
Edgar Muniz has become, arguably, my favorite of my “screener” filmmakers for a couple of reasons. The films, of course, are the first one, but more than that, it’s a combination of the way he develops the films at the writing stage with some of his main actors, and for the primary theme inherent in his work, whether it’s expressed in the film or not– that creative people, and the act of creation, can be difficult. That when people try and create something truly meaningful to them, a piece of them is removed, leaving an empty space that might only be filled with something creative. It can be a painful cycle, but a fulfilling one, as well, because otherwise, why create?
“Showing Sydney” may very well be my favorite of Muniz’s films to date, which is saying something considering the huge chuck of mental real estate some of his films (especially “Someone Else in the Evening” and “From the Heart of the Crowd”) occupy. The first film of his I watched, “Rocks & Pebbles & Happiness” back in 2009, was really rough around the edges from a technical standpoint; the film was much more assured from a writing and performance perspective, which is why it got my attention. But with the sixth film of his I’ve seen, Muniz is completely in control of the technical aspects of filmmaking that turn good movies into great movies, and it goes without saying that, since his skills as a writing and director have only matured over the years, he’s in the business of making great movies. That he’s still very much on the fringes of indie cinema, and not collecting Independent Spirit Awards and such, is more Hollywood’s fault than his. But the thing is, I don’t see that that type of thing matters to Muniz, because he continues to churn out movies at a pace that would make Woody Allen envious, especially considering the consistency of the quality of his work vs. Allen’s at times.
With “Showing Sydney,” Muniz returns to a narrative that explicitly draws on the creative process, and it’s spiritual toll on the creators, by telling the story of a young woman named, well, Sydney (played by Suley Rivera, who co-wrote the script with Muniz). Sydney came out to LA for the same reason other people do– to be an actress, and be in the business (she also does headshots for people). Her boyfriend, Tom (Seth Johansson, another co-writer), is a director, and is so enamored by her that he wants to make a film about her, starring her. What starts out as a documentary, though, becomes something a bit more influenced by Ryan’s memories and creative impulses as he realizes he wants to capture times like the first time they met. For Sydney, the project becomes a bit embarrassing, especially when Ryan calls the film “Sydney,” and begins to screen the movie. Sydney wants no part of that, and the coincides with the arrival into town of a friend of hers, Audrey (Heather Larson), as well as the chance to work on a new movie. But gradually, Sydney begins to see herself, both through her own emotional process, and through what people tell her about her, and she doesn’t really like what she sees, and what others see.
The movie that Sydney begins to work on when Tom is off screening his film is a film of her own, working out her own issues, trying to dispel some of the notions she thinks Tom’s film creates about her. Sexuality is a huge part of Sydney’s life (she’s definitely not shy about it), and as such, it became a big part of the film Tom made. In that respect, this is the most naked, for lack of a better term, film Muniz (who hasn’t shied away from the topic over the years) has made to date, and the courage and trust Rivera, who is fantastic in the role, puts in him is kind of stunning, and shows just how important the actors are in the collaborative process for Muniz. This is the key part of Sydney’s life that she’s uncomfortable with in terms of the film her and Tom have made, and it’s also the key to her desire to change people’s perspectives about her, as well, especially Tom. By intercutting between Sydney post-film, and the process of making the film, “Showing Sydney” illustrates just how garbled up reality can be when it comes to cinema, and the art of filmmaking. It also gives us a full portrait of Sydney in all her physical beauty and psychological hang-ups, with the moment when she is listening to Tom’s recorder (where he discusses the project, and Sydney, in brutally honest detail) crystallizing everything the film’s about in one powerful sequence, as Muniz cuts between shots of Sydney listening to the words, and Tom speaking them. We not only see Sydney’s pain in hearing the perception Tom has about her, but also see something in Tom where he is uncertain about the film he’s making, which becomes even clearer at the end, when he’s introducing the film to an audience for what will be the last time.
It would be easy to say that there is something autobiographical in this film about Muniz, and there very well might be, but having gotten to know the filmmaker over the years, and see the end results of his collaborations with actors, I think that’s just an easy analysis to make rather than the right one. Whether the film is autobiographical or not is irrelevant, anyway, because what it says about life, art, and the things cinema can reveal about a person are spot-on, and that’s what really resonates with not only this film, but all of Muniz’s work, which is why I’ve gravitated to it so much over the years.
