By Glenn Dunks
The Nowhere Inn is not a documentary, but it is about documentary. It’s also an absolute hoot. A gonzo existential cinematic experiment that plays a little bit like if Christopher Guest melded with the world of Kirsten Johnston. It’s a movie that one could play alongside David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive and surely not-so-coincidentally hums along to a very similar tune.
Maybe most importantly, it is a movie that asks, ‘What happens when you go to make a documentary about a rock star, but your rock star turns out to be boring?’
I’ve watched my fair share of documentaries that have the definite aura of a filmmaker struggling to make something out of little. Given the mind of Annie Clark (aka art rock indie sensation St. Vincent) co-created The Nowhere Inn, I doubt she’s one of those dullards. But it is very much true that just because you’re famous doesn’t meant you’re interesting.
It feels a little bit mean to spoil much of the deliciously entertaining narrative surprises of Bill Benz’ The Nowhere Inn. But I think I am confident in saying this: Annie Clark has decided to make a documentary about her tour following the release of her (excellent!) Masseduction album. It’s to be directed by her friend, Carrie Brownstein because how can you reveal your true self if you don’t trust the person asking the questions? While St. Vincent is a PVC-clad rock star on stage, backstage she plays computer games and scrabble. Discovering her boring persona isn’t fit for film, Annie Clark begins to mould herself into something closer to Madonna in Truth or Dare: a control freak whose newfound diva tactics earn the combative ire of her director, but admiration from others. Dakota Johnson even shows up, which is wild and funny and I wish I could have seen how that discussion went.
Is the film especially deep or is it just playing at being deep? Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you could say that’s its own form of depth. Nevertheless, whether deliberately or by accident, it does manage to play some really interesting notes at a time where discussions about documentary ethics are notably high. Brownstein initially refuses to utilise the (very real) truth of Annie Clark’s father being in prison. Until she doesn't. Scenes meant to show Clark's spontaneous rock star energy are shot and re-shot to get the best version of real. The singer fabricates entire emotional arcs just for the camera. 16mm celluloid is incorporated in an almost sinister way to reflect true reality as if to chastise dolts like me who prefer the tones and textures that come from film as if that actually means anything at all in documentary storytelling.
Nestled within The Nowhere Inn are, I presume, real performances by the St. Vincent band that are electric and imaginatively filmed. They take on a hallucinogenic quality at times, as does the fictional film around them. The film becomes something of an unexpected acting showcase for Brownstein, too. The Portlandia star unravelling as Annie Clark becomes the St. Vincent that filmgoers would want to see in a tour documentary. By the time it has become a truly absurdist comedy with an extended sketch on a country farm, The Nowhere Inn’s concept of reality has well and truly been shattered, but in such wonderfully entertaining ways. It’s not a mockumentary so much as it is a mockery of the boundaries of film more broadly.
I imagine Annie Clark and Carrie Brownstein had a whole lot of fun writing The Nowhere Inn and imagining what odd detours they could take within the framework of a traditional tour documentary/behind-the-scenes exposé. Likewise director Benz, who directs with confidence and who, alongside the fab work by television editor Ali Greer, never lets the energy dip too far that it ceases to entertain and instead becomes a artistically indulgent chore. Not everybody will click to its navel-gazing. I did, though. This is a film that’s brash and refreshingly intellectual even if it's just all surface. Whether you like it or not, it seems hard to deny it truly has a vision.
Release: In limited release theatrically as well as available to rent from all the regular places.
Oscar chances: I mean, it'd be nice if the title song was considered!