HollywoodReporter
How We Got Away With It: Film Review
2:51 PM PDT 5/14/2014 by Sheri Lin
Actor Jon Lindstrom, a longtime castmember of "General Hospital," makes his feature directing debut with an ensemble drama set in Rochester, N.Y.
In How We Got Away With It, director Jon Lindstrom and his co-writers put a dark twist on the reunion-drama subgenre, focusing less on the usual relationship woes and life-stage angst than on a crime-in-the-making. The story, told with a bracing dose of sangfroid, revolves around a suicide and its apparent cover-up, and takes its time revealing how various characters are connected. Bringing together a group of 30-something friends during a summer weekend at a lake house, the film makes good use of its atypical upstate New York locale. There’s a leanness to the narrative that can be more frustrating than involving, but an assured visual style and keen attention to what’s unspoken keep the mystery percolating.
The movie, which is receiving a Los Angeles theatrical release along with its bow on VOD and a number of digital platforms, is a promising feature directing debut for Lindstrom, a longtime General Hospital castmember whose screenwriting credits include the Bruce Dern-Vera Farmiga heist pic The Hard Easy.
Lindstrom plays the small but key role of a cop who’s snooping around the edges, while his screenplay collaborators, McCaleb Burnett and Jeff Barry, portray characters at the center of the ensemble. Burnett is Henry, host of the annual get-together and impulsive mastermind of a scheme whose purpose becomes clear late in the proceedings. Returning home from a brief stint in prison to discover, just before his friends arrive, that his sister, Sarah, has hanged herself in their well-appointed beachfront house, he puts an unsettling plan in motion.
The weekend of sun and fun is tinged with an ominous undertow as Henry enlists his friend Will (Barry) for late-night maneuvers that involve the corpse, which he’s hidden, and which zero in on Walter (Richard Bekins), the belligerent alcoholic who owns the restaurant where Henry works.
The burning question, of course, is why -- and with most of the pivotal conversations unfolding offscreen, that question is a fuse that keeps burning. The elliptical storytelling is refreshing in its refusal to spell things out, but it also can feel arbitrary. Important relationships take a bit too long to come into focus -- especially those between Henry, Sarah and Walter. It’s a choice that doesn’t so much enrich the story as distance the viewer, and undercuts the intended impact of final-act revelations.
The approach works well, though, as a way of exposing tensions among the group of friends. Lindstrom draws effective, understated performances from his cast, letting insecurities and betrayals break through the surface of laid-back celebration.
As he should be, Burnett’s Henry is hard to read, but clearly a man who has earned the loyalty of the longtime friends he trusts with his plan: Will and Ronnie (Jacob H. Knoll), a recovering addict who keeps an interested newcomer (Brianne Moncrief) at a distance. Henry’s girlfriend (Cassandra Freeman, injecting warmth into the taut story) is similarly trying to connect with the distracted host, while Will’s partner (Mikal Evans) is hiding the news that she’s pregnant. As an unattached member of the group, Luke Robertson eyes his scheming friends with at least as much suspicion as Lindstrom’s cop, whose questionable methods finally disclose understanding and compassion.
The climactic crime transpires with a chilling matter-of-factness in a beach scene that’s among the strongest in cinematographer Michael Belcher’s fine work here with the Red One. The handsome and evocative opening-credits sequence, following Henry’s long walk from jail to the house on the water, is another highlight. Besides being an intriguing lead-in to disturbing events, it’s an eloquent place-setting sequence. The Rochester locations, including the Lake Ontario beachfront, have a freshness on the screen as unfamiliar movie settings. As with most elements of a story that never forces exposition into dialogue, the script doesn’t specifically name the place.
Lindstrom and Belcher use telling details well, including such sly touches as the neighborhood sign that reads “A Community That Cares” and the Gandhi T-shirt that Henry’s wearing when he hides his sister’s body. Costume designer Philip Heckman’s contributions, along with those of composerPeer Bazarini and editor Tony Randel, enhance the dark-sunny mood as the drama moves toward a final reckoning.
Opens: Friday, May 16 (Devolver Digital Films)
Production: La Vie Prods., Jailbreak Films
Cast: McCaleb Burnett, Jeff Barry, Mikal Evans, Brianne Moncrief, Jacob H. Knoll, Cassandra Freeman, Luke Robertson, Jon Lindstrom, Samantha Soule, Richard Bekins
Director: Jon Lindstrom
Screenwriters: Jeff Barry, McCaleb Burnett, Jon Lindstrom
Producers: Jeff Barry, R. Erin Craig, Jon Lindstrom
Director of photography: Michael Belcher
Music: Peer Bazarini
Costume designer: Philip Heckman
Editor: Tony Randel
No MPAA rating, 90 minutes
Film Journal
Having played at a host of film festivals since February 2013, the crime drama How We Got Away With It marks the feature directorial debut of actor and shorts-filmmaker Jon Lindstrom, who here shows himself well-versed in cinematic vocabulary and ambitious enough to pull off night scenes, practical locations and a large cast on a low budget. His opening shot, combining extreme close-up, an off-camera action with good use of audio, a rack focus and a reflection in a door that speaks to the lead character's through-the-looking-glass journey into murder and revenge, is immediately impressive. So is another shot early on in which a terrible tragedy is come upon gradually. He's a director who clearly understands visual possibilities.
As a storyteller, however, Lindstrom and co-writers Jeff Barry and McCaleb Burnett, all of whom also star, make this film—being marketed as a thriller—less than thrilling and not particularly suspenseful. Even as a drama it's problematic: Filled with too many characters, most of them sketchily drawn—we don't know what they do for a living and I'm not sure one of them is ever even addressed by name—it appears to be attempting the oblique style of narrative that characterizes such TV series as "Mad Men" and "Breaking Bad," yet simply becomes confusing, with plot threads that evaporate and portentous moments with no follow-up.
Henry (Burnett) has just left a two-week jail stint in Greece, New York, and when his ride doesn't show up he finds himself walking home to the Charlotte neighborhood of Rochester, where the film was shot. The reason for not waiting a few minutes or calling a cab seems to be to give us the picturesque images of the city under the opening credits as he walks, yet none of those locales figure into the story, which takes place almost entirely at two locations: the palatial home where Henry lives and a restaurant within walking distance along a Lake Ontario beach.
Upon arriving home, Henry finds that Sarah (Samantha Soule), the person who was picking him up, has hanged herself. (Specifying their exact relationship would be a spoiler, since it's not revealed till later in the film.) Rather than call the police, he spirits her body to the basement. Later that day comes his long-scheduled annual reunion weekend with childhood friends Will (Barry) and Ronnie (Jacob H. Knoll); Will's girlfriend Leigh (Mikal Evans), Henry's long-distance girlfriend Anne (Cassandra Freeman), and Henry's best friend Dallas (Luke Robertson), plus new invitee Elizabeth (Brianne Moncrief), a friend of Anne's. Why this overstuffed cast needed a new person—and why anyone would invite an outside friend to a reunion weekend—is unclear. So is the fact that Dallas, late in the film, reveals he's Henry's best friend, since there had been no inkling of that whatsoever—symptomatic of the lack of friendship-chemistry among the cast.
The youngish Henry, unlikely as it seems, appears to be the owner of an upscale beachfront restaurant. An older gentleman named Walter (Richard Bekins) lives upstairs, on a mattress in what looks like an office, and his smirking presence makes the friends uncomfortable. So does the presence of a neighborly police detective, Arlen Becker (Lindstrom), who had gotten a distressed phone call from Sarah—and like everyone else, wonders why she's missing the reunion. For reasons made clear at the end, Henry plans to commit a murder and—in a plot stretch any medical examiner would do a spit-take at—move Sarah's body elsewhere and make it look as if she hanged herself there.
Were the characters better fleshed-out and their relationships more engaging, the plot's pace toward the murder machinations might have seemed less glacial. As it is, we're given setups without follow-ups, such as Anne peering through a telescope at Henry and Will plotting on the beach, and Elizabeth maybe looking out a window or maybe just seeing her reflection as Henry and Will out back are moving Sarah's body—with the back-door light on, by the way, which, given the task at hand, is ludicrous.
The musical score is very good, and not just for a low-budget film. The editing is questionable: Shots match up fine, which is no small feat given how typically little cover footage most low-budget films give editors to work with, but many scenes go on long after they've made their point—and I'm not sure we need to see every moment of characters slowly sneaking in through a back door. Regardless, How We Got Away With It shows great directorial promise, and we hope to see more of Lindstrom's work.
Full Movie on Sockshare
Film Review: How We Got Away with It
Indie murder story showcases a good feature directing debut, despite having an overabundance of ill-used characters and little chemistry among the cast.
May 15, 2014
-By Frank Lovece
As a storyteller, however, Lindstrom and co-writers Jeff Barry and McCaleb Burnett, all of whom also star, make this film—being marketed as a thriller—less than thrilling and not particularly suspenseful. Even as a drama it's problematic: Filled with too many characters, most of them sketchily drawn—we don't know what they do for a living and I'm not sure one of them is ever even addressed by name—it appears to be attempting the oblique style of narrative that characterizes such TV series as "Mad Men" and "Breaking Bad," yet simply becomes confusing, with plot threads that evaporate and portentous moments with no follow-up.
Henry (Burnett) has just left a two-week jail stint in Greece, New York, and when his ride doesn't show up he finds himself walking home to the Charlotte neighborhood of Rochester, where the film was shot. The reason for not waiting a few minutes or calling a cab seems to be to give us the picturesque images of the city under the opening credits as he walks, yet none of those locales figure into the story, which takes place almost entirely at two locations: the palatial home where Henry lives and a restaurant within walking distance along a Lake Ontario beach.
Upon arriving home, Henry finds that Sarah (Samantha Soule), the person who was picking him up, has hanged herself. (Specifying their exact relationship would be a spoiler, since it's not revealed till later in the film.) Rather than call the police, he spirits her body to the basement. Later that day comes his long-scheduled annual reunion weekend with childhood friends Will (Barry) and Ronnie (Jacob H. Knoll); Will's girlfriend Leigh (Mikal Evans), Henry's long-distance girlfriend Anne (Cassandra Freeman), and Henry's best friend Dallas (Luke Robertson), plus new invitee Elizabeth (Brianne Moncrief), a friend of Anne's. Why this overstuffed cast needed a new person—and why anyone would invite an outside friend to a reunion weekend—is unclear. So is the fact that Dallas, late in the film, reveals he's Henry's best friend, since there had been no inkling of that whatsoever—symptomatic of the lack of friendship-chemistry among the cast.
The youngish Henry, unlikely as it seems, appears to be the owner of an upscale beachfront restaurant. An older gentleman named Walter (Richard Bekins) lives upstairs, on a mattress in what looks like an office, and his smirking presence makes the friends uncomfortable. So does the presence of a neighborly police detective, Arlen Becker (Lindstrom), who had gotten a distressed phone call from Sarah—and like everyone else, wonders why she's missing the reunion. For reasons made clear at the end, Henry plans to commit a murder and—in a plot stretch any medical examiner would do a spit-take at—move Sarah's body elsewhere and make it look as if she hanged herself there.
Were the characters better fleshed-out and their relationships more engaging, the plot's pace toward the murder machinations might have seemed less glacial. As it is, we're given setups without follow-ups, such as Anne peering through a telescope at Henry and Will plotting on the beach, and Elizabeth maybe looking out a window or maybe just seeing her reflection as Henry and Will out back are moving Sarah's body—with the back-door light on, by the way, which, given the task at hand, is ludicrous.
The musical score is very good, and not just for a low-budget film. The editing is questionable: Shots match up fine, which is no small feat given how typically little cover footage most low-budget films give editors to work with, but many scenes go on long after they've made their point—and I'm not sure we need to see every moment of characters slowly sneaking in through a back door. Regardless, How We Got Away With It shows great directorial promise, and we hope to see more of Lindstrom's work.
Full Movie on Sockshare
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