ALL THE REAL GIRLS (David Gordon Green, 2003) 86

Reviewed: February 14th, 2003

I have no idea how much screen time elapses from the beginning of All the Real Girls to the end. Using lots of sound bridges and a variety of transitions (dissolves, wipes, fades), time (like love) takes on such a malleable quality here that it begins to blur, to blend, and maybe to heal. This is a movie I feel confident calling among the most natural depictions of young (say, under 30) romance in American cinema. There is nary a false note, and only a cold fake would be careless enough to degrade this portrait because the characters might not be as sophisticated as them. Every emotional pitch is universal in All the Real Girls' world, realized with an uncommon delicacy. This movie hits closer to me than anything I've seen in a long while.

It's a spare, lonely elegy (but not without light) and at its core is the coupling of Paul Schneider and Zooey Deschanel. Both are remarkable presences, neither seem to be acting. Schneider -- probably unemployed, a former Casanova, still living with his mother -- longs to transcend himself for his love, to be a tad nicer, a touch smarter. I know there are a lot of big Zooey fans out there, tired of seeing her consigned to small, supporting roles unworthy of her unique talent, and this is the film we have been waiting patiently for. In her withdrawn, always kinda-on-the-verge-of-tears way, she projects a radiance that is heartbreaking in its sincerity and inexperience. The title strikes me as either a dedication from writer/director David Gordon Green or a personal dare before he went into production: this is the rare film both about and for a real goddamn girl.

Shot on location in Asheville, North Carolina by the brilliant Tim Orr, anyone who's seen George Washington (Green's first feature) knows how potent and integral Green's (and Orr's) sense of locale is. It's not just a place, it's a way of languid life, from the mills to the mountains (and indeed there's a scene with Zooey and Paul looking out on a mountain range that is just fucking breathtaking). If George Washington seemed a little too stylized, seemed to strain for its lyricism a little too hard, then All the Real Girls is effortless. But there are still wonderfully surreal sequences (eg. the hospital, the bowling alley) and there is still a plethora of supporting players, a world teeming with life just outside the boundaries of the too constrictive frame. Sometimes Green will venture out and look around for a minute, like he's stealing a glance at a butterfly trapped in a jar. These digressions are not superfluous. All of these characters drifting in and out of focus -- this whole community -- are pertinent to the central couple in the way they update and signal and reflect their feelings. There are no plot gymnastics, no tragedies, no miracles. All the Real Girls might be about comeuppance, about how even the best intentions can lead us astray, about making the inevitable choice between sinking or swimming. It might be about the painful experiences that change us and about accepting our ability to move on. Or it might be about the placidity that eventually dominates and restores. I'll get back to you after a few more viewings.*

*[Second viewing: It's about all these things, along with a stark questioning of whether swimming is always the right choice...]

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