Satellite | VOD Review

Eight years after its festival debut, the lo-fi drama Satellite, chocked with obscure Indie band gems and unlikely romantic gestures is now available. Giving bad press to a tiny film with a lot of heart is taxing, but there are enough successes in the sometimes shoddy romantic fable written, directed and edited by Jeff Winner to give a review in good conscience. Unlike his equally under-financed You Are Here (2000), the sophomore feature from the NYU filmmaking program graduate has a few vaguely recognizable actors and will presumably reach a sizable audience. Satellite made its festival rounds in 2005, winning Special Jury Prize at the Madrid Film Festival after a world premiere at Tribeca. At long last, the indie feature was made available on iTunes, Amazon and VOD earlier this month.

The love story begins when Ro, played by the boyish gap-toothed French model Stephanie Szostak, follows a pouty-lipped stranger to a Southwestern themed Brooklyn bar. Three hours and twenty minutes later, she asks Kevin (Karl Geary) if he loves her with a soft-spoken sweetness faintly reminiscent of cinephile heartthrob Anna Karina. Kevin responds with an unintentional stiffness not unlike the slightly aloof cynic routinely acted by Jean-Paul Belmondo. They quickly make vows to never lie and to dare each other to do the things they fear most, the first is abandoning unfulfilling dead-end careers at yuppie ad agencies and the final dare is a marriage proposal. The unbelievably rushed romance is a search for life-affirming excitement that includes stealing a motorcycle and shop-lifting a dress from an overpriced boutique, but the bulk of the film is somehow slow moving.

The most gripping moments would likely fall flat without the ambient music from Brooklyn-based house-band Calla. Lamenting electronic noise swells up from under whispered moody vocals in songs composed specifically for the film. These songs, along with the dancey “We’ll Make a Lover of You” from art-punk band Les Savy Fav satisfy – or nearly outperform the aesthetic aspirations for the visual. While the occasional, too-obvious music-box inspired piano playing deviates from sophistication, the score is altogether wonderfully effective.

The limited marketing for Satellite has embraced praise that calls it the perfect date movie, but there is something amiss about the supposed sexual chemistry between the young couple that meet and fall in love over the course of a weekend. Such an immediate attraction would, in reality, be inherently physical, but aside from getting handsy on a train and a shadowy forty-second sex-scene involving a cowboy hat, Ro and Kevin gaze lovingly and kiss tenderly. The only rousing sexual exploit is unfortunately when Kevin sleeps with a woman at a party on a childish dare, but this lusty scene is otherwise successful in proving that the desperate fear of losing someone often leads to counterproductive eruptions.

There is a redeeming attentiveness to character psychology, as the lovers that take great pride in abandoning inhibitions are unconsciously motivated by past hurts inflicted on them. For example when Kevin is physically assaulted in a pet store after shouting at a negligent parent, he unconvincingly denies any resemblance between the stranger and his own oppressive father. In the same sense, Kevin confesses his attraction to blondes in a conversation sparked by a magazine cover photo of Britney Spears and Ro consequently projects her insecurities onto blonde women.

Despite these underlying forces, Kevin and Ro outwardly worship spontaneity and rationalize immoral behavior, as they are modeled after the wandering existentialist lovers immortalized by Nouvelle Vague. Much like the European art-film, this homegrown effort with a shoestring budget uses lightweight cameras, on-site shooting and embraces choppy editing. Such a comparison is ultimately superficial, as the political intent and subversiveness of New Wave auteurs is nearly impossible to match. Yet the characteristic subjugation of content to form is very briefly adopted, as decisive scenes are presented in a succession of still images. The allowance of time for contemplation may be an unexpected homage to Chris Markers’ La Jetée, but just imagine, in slow-mo, a random little girl lovingly yanked from a car without protest from her screaming parents. Yes, the reckless romantic fairy tale involves a glorified kidnapping, but why not?

It is encouraging to see a risk-taking indie with honest intentions achieve accessibility, even if delayed. Though Satellite ranges from being painfully dry to wildly overblown, the mature conception of romantic love as an incentive to live purposefully is more affecting than your average oversexed date flick.