CIFF: Empire Builder, by Aaron Pinkston
Empire Builder probably shouldn’t be lumped in with the “mumblecore” movement, even with the film’s connections. Filmmaker Kris Swanberg (wife of Joe Swanberg, pioneer of the movement, who also appears in the film) brings a few of the trademark elements of the ultra-low budget indies, but it is decidedly grown up. The film stars Kate Lyn Sheil as Jenny, a twenty-something and new mother. Now with a 1-year old baby, Jenny has to grow up, doesn’t see her friends as often and gives up her younger pursuits. The film’s narrative proves to be a pretty nice metaphor for the film movement, with its major players getting older and moving on to more serious pursuits.
Since the director’s last name is Swanberg, the film will inevitably be compared with the films of Joe Swanberg and the Duplass brothers. This isn’t quite fair, but there are some interesting comparisons that can be made. Empire Builder differs greatly in its stylistic choices. Instead of the hand-held, wandering camera we see in most mumblecore films, Swanberg decides to almost exclusively use a static camera, employed in long takes. If I had to guess, the average shot of this film is well over one, maybe two minutes, which gives the film a very measured pace that pays off in the end. The film’s narrative is more comparable, dealing with a particular type of young people, their relationships and their conversations.
The first act of the film, which plays more like a prologue, has Jenny and her husband (played by Joe Swanberg) in Chicago, dealing with their adjusted lives as parents. When Jenny inherits a cabin in rural Montana, she uses this as an opportunity to get away from the city and reconnect with herself — the film’s name comes from the train line that runs from Chicago to the American Northwest. Once Jenny and her baby leave for Montana, the film slightly shifts — dropping a lot of the long, natural conversations, leaving long stretches without action or dialogue as Jenny works on the cabin, cares for her son and enjoy the tranquil surroundings. It runs the risk of being emotionally and narratively opaque, without a lot going on and without any rises
While she waits for her husband to arrive in Montana, the only human interaction Jenny receives is with the man hired to do some fix-up work on the cabin. With this setup (particularly a young woman on her own with a baby and a strange man), there are obviously disastrous narrative angles the film can hit. Though the inevitable romantic/sexual relationship does happen, it builds silently and is displayed subtly. In a film like Empire Builder, two people holding hands or an embrace can feel like a shock to the system, and so it doesn’t unnecessarily overdo these moments. It also uses these conventional indie film tropes to gives a nice dramatic flair at the very end of the film — quite honestly, the only impacting emotional moment of the film. By the time you get there, you realize what Swanberg and the film have managed to do, precisely playing with the slow, steady beats and unemotional characters to snap into a relatively frightening sequence. The conclusion of the film would never pay off without the film’s measured awareness, so I hope you hold tight through the build-up.
Empire Builder isn’t a film I loved or very much enjoyed, but I did appreciate it. Swanberg shows that she knows how capture small moments of life and shoots a beautiful film. It also has a quietly wonderful soundtrack, which matches the overall tones and images of the film. Altogether, it sort feels like Kelly Reichardt directing a mumblecore film. Yes, that’s annoying to say and possibly reductive, but it’s nice in that sort of way.