Digging for Fire

Director and co-screenwriter Joe Swanberg has assembled one of the fiercest and most impressive casts for his feature, "Digging for Fire." Led by co-writer, Jake Johnson and Rosemarie DeWitt, the ensemble feature some of the indie world's best actors, including the ever-irascible Sam Rockwell, the ubiquitous Brie Larson, the equally ubiquitous Anna Kendrick, quirky and cool Jane Adams, the uber-brilliant Judith Light, the kick-ass Chris Messina, the always underrated Sam Elliott, Mike Birbiglia, Ron Livingston, Melanie Lynskey, Jenny Slate, Timothy Simons, and even Orlando Bloom.

So how do you get all that talent to show up for your shoot and then give each and every one of them so little to do?

That is one of many exasperating questions that passed through my mind (continuously) as I simultaneously slogged through and, occasionally dived into "Digging for Fire."

Swanberg probably has as many rabid fans as detractors. His previous work has produced a cult following of sorts. I have only seen "Happy Christmas," which was slight at best, and "Drinking Buddies," which I enjoyed.

So is "Digging for Fire" profound or poppycock? Like "Seinfeld," its a bit of both, with that dash of infuriating mentioned above.

The director dedicates his movie to Paul Mazursky, another idiosyncratic filmmaker who gave us a handful of classics like, "An Unmarried Woman," "Enemies: A Love Story" and "Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice." The thing that marked Mazursky's cinema is that however enigmatic his work was, he did his best to probe the inner world of his characters and honestly examine human connections. Swanberg has yet to truly go much deeper than the surface in his films, and "Digging" is another example of an interesting idea that goes nowhere... slowly.

As the film opens we meet Tim (Johnson) and Lee (DeWitt), who are a financially struggling married couple with an adorable son (played winningly by Swanberg's kid, Jude). The two argue about whether to send their son to private pre-school. Tim is a public school teacher who doesn't want to be a hypocrite. Lee is a yoga instructor whose parents have money and would gladly foot the bill. An immediate awkwardness between the two is established. Like most new parents, they try to devote themselves to Jude, but their own wants and needs bubble to the surface.

They're housesitting in the Hollywood Hills, the fancier part of Los Angeles, for one of Lee's clients, who is off shooting a movie in Budapest. Tim discovers a rusty gun and human bone in the back yard; intrigued, he wants to keep digging. Lee thinks he should leave it be.

The two take a break from one another and Lee visits her parents (Light and Elliott) while Tim promises to get the taxes done but, instead, invites his buddies (Rockwell and Messina) over for some fun (the house has a pool) and they, in turn, bring some girls (Kendrick and Larson) along, who may or may not be hookers.

Lee's fidelity is tested by her odd (and refreshing) encounter with Ben (an excellent Bloom), while Tim has his own flirtation with the Larson character.
You can easily guess where the story goes, since the film is devoid of real dramatic stakes.

I appreciated what Swanberg and Johnson were trying to say about compromise and how easy it is to lose one's identity when children come into our lives. They write some very real dialogue (some of it probably improvised by the actors). I just wish the script had more heft to it.

I did also like that the film felt like a strange indie-odyssey where our two protags meet up with various gods and goddesses of the independent film scene, brushing up against each one in order to gather wisdom and return to their world, a little changed but savvier. But cameos aren't enough!

DeWitt does the most with an underwritten part, imbuing Lee with the perfect amount of frustration and curiosity.

Livingston and Lynskey have a too-brief scene as a bickering couple, and make such an impact one wishes someone would make a film devoted to those two characters.

And that's the continuous case as each terrific actor has his or her brief (and in some cases criminally fleeing) moments. How about cooking up a real and meaty screenplay for such gifted thesps?

Oh, and if you're going to dig up bones and various other mysterious items, have that plot point actually lead to something of substance!