Counting Criterion: The performances are masterful in Jonathan Demme’s A Master Builder

A Master Builder

A Master Builder
Director: Jonathan Demme
Spine #762
(Blu-ray/DVD)

Anyone interested in film, in all its myriads, should be familiar with The Criterion Collection. For three decades now, Criterion has made a name for itself by seeking out underrepresented films and using its label as a way to give them new life. With an astounding track record of foreign, art house, and obscure releases, The Criterion Collection covers a broad spectrum that rarely disappoints and stands as a benchmark of quality cinema.

To commemorate the continuing Criterion, Oxford Karma is introducing a new, bimonthly series that will profile recent additions to the catalogue as they become available.

A few naturally lit rooms, a bundle of characters, and some unearthed resentments. These are the ingredients of Jonathan Demme’s A Master Builder, a film less interested in establishing itself as a cinematic exploration than a play captured on camera. Taking a barebones approach like this could be risky, even uneventful, but the lack of visual distractions make room for compelling characters. Fleshed out through dialogue, these figures stand front and center. This is a truly conversational film, so if you’re not a fan of lengthy exchanges, stray away. This should come as no surprise, as the script is both adapted and acted out by Wallace Shawn. Perhaps familiar to some, Shawn co-wrote My Dinner with Andre, a film revered for its mastery of dialogue.

Shawn plays Halvard Solness, a prestigious architect wallowing in his disinterest in his craft. Halvard is unable to relinquish any control of his projects over to his formidable assistant, Ragnar (Jeff Biehl), believing he will usurp him as the architect once did to Ragnar’s father. Halvard, a deeply selfish and righteous man, is uplifted by the arrival of Hilde (Lisa Joyce), a mysterious woman from his past who reminds him of a promise he gave to her when she was only a child: to swoop her up like a princess and build her a tower. The film never explicitly states if this a lark or not, and the majority of it follows these two as they barrage each other with questions, answers, and everything in between.

Demme is no stranger to ambiguous tales, having directed iconic pictures like The Silence of the Lambs and Stop Making Sense. When considering his versatile and often adventurous filmography, it’s not easily understood why he is attached to this picture, or even how such a minimalist undertaking utilizes a director known for his vast scope.

The film’s biggest achievement is Joyce’s Hilde, whose wide-eyed, soul-seeing gaze and giddily nervous laugh really beat some physicality into a cast of intellectualized and somewhat clinical characters. Similarly, Wallace Shawn feeds off Joyce with neurotic glee, providing a polarizing performance of a mastermind who is both infuriating and sympathetic.

This is a film made for those who constantly wish they could be closer to the actors in a play. The camera is always intimate, always trying to get every little expression. Despite being a relatively unambitious work, A Master Builder follows two dynamic performances that show off the level of immersion it takes to inhabit an eccentric psychological realm.