Film review: 'A Slipping-Down Life'

Holding on to 'Life'; Austin-shot adaptation of Anne Tyler's book makes it to theaters six years after filming

BY JOE O'CONNELL
Austin American-Statesman
(May 28, 2004): pE3.

Consider Evie Decker a disciple of Joel Goodson's dad or, even better, of Otter.

You remember Joel. He went gonzo in "Risky Business" and played pimp for the evening, or, as his dad always told him, "Sometimes you have to say 'what the heck.' " And great sage Otter of "Animal House" fame taught us that difficult times require "a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part." Verily, Bluto agreed.

In "A Slipping-Down Life," indie goddess Lili Taylor plays Evie, a youngish woman whose life is one gaping yawn. She puts on a grimy bunny suit to dole out hot dogs at the low-rent Kiddie Acres amusement park in small town North Carolina. She lives with her widowed dad (Tom Bower), a man so stunted his primary communication with the world is through a short-wave radio.

Then Evie hears a voice on her radio. Nobody musician Drumstrings Casey says, "You think you're invisible, but I see you." Evie knows he's talking to her and heads out with her pal Violet (Sara Rue of television's "Less than Perfect") to the local skanky dive to meet her new Jim Morrison-esque messiah, who babbles disjointedly between songs. Uh oh. Sexpot Shawnee Smith has her eye on the hunky singer (Guy Pearce).

What's an invisible girl like Evie to do? Say "what the heck," go to the restroom and carve his name in her forehead. Unfortunately, Casey becomes "yesac" on her noggin since she does the deed while staring into a mirror.

Fleeting small-town fame ensues and, more importantly, Evie realizes she can take charge of her own existence.

"Slipping" is a life-affirming and often laugh-out-loud funny film that sometimes loses its footing, but regains traction with the aid of fine acting from its leads. Taylor, famed for quirky performances in everything from "Six Feet Under" to "Household Saints," makes Evie a nervous ball of insecurity and desire. Long-maned and buff, Pearce is unrecognizable from earlier star turns in "Memento" and "L.A. Confidential." He presents Casey as a walking contradiction, both salivating over and repulsed by elusive fame. And the Aussie -- himself a singer/songwriter -- has the chops to pull off songs by the likes of Joe Henry, Ron Sexsmith and Robyn Hitchcock. Look for an all-Pearce soundtrack album in stores any day now.

Filmed in the Austin area in 1998, "Slipping" played at the Sundance and South By Southwest film festivals in 1999. Artistic disagreements between first-time director Toni Kalem and the film's producers left it on the shelf for years before Lion's Gate was able to snap it up.

The time lag hasn't hurt this adaptation of one of Anne Tyler's earliest novels, perhaps because Evie's world is one smudged with the grime and regrets of time lost. Everyone seems to drive cars rescued from the '60s and '70s. Home furnishings look even more outdated. Overtly Southern supporting actors like gum-snapping floozy Smith and scene-stealing Irma P. Hall as Evie's maid/surrogate mom seem straight out of a Flannery O'Connor short story.

Therein lie both the truth of this film and the quirkiness that viewers will either love or find over-the-top goofy.

It's the same divide that separates fans of Tyler's novels from their detractors. Pro: Tyler aptly delves into people suffering the pain of intense isolation and the odd folks who come along to snap them out of it. Think "The Accidental Tourist" and its funky dog trainer Muriel who saves the day for a grieving dad. Con: Overly sappy. Glacially slow.

The same arguments can be made about this adoption of "Slipping." The film slips into melodrama in its third act as odd couple Evie and Casey get married. Now the tables are turned and Casey finds his life and dreams of stardom slipping away, while Evie becomes more and more in charge. Then we amble toward a rather unsatisfying and forced ending.

Tyler fans also make take issue with how Kalem, who wrote the script, transformed Evie from the book's overweight teen into an older, thinner Evie. However, in the hands of Kalem, who spent 20 years trying to bring the story to the screen, it rings very true.