The first thing that impresses about Ballast -- a quiet, slavishly realistic redemption story set in the Mississippi Delta -- is that it got made at all. The second is that it works.
Clearly influenced by Dogme 95 and other arty "anti-Hollywood" movements that eschew soundtracks, tripods, dollies and, in this case, professional actors, director Lance Hammer has managed to capture a mood, evoke a place and even tell a story, entirely via suggestions channeled through likable "role-playing" ordinary folk, and mainly with silences over dialogue.
The effectiveness of the "non-actors" is the real surprise. Mute with shock and grief through what amounts to a first act, Lawrence (Micheal J. Smith Sr.) belies Hollywood's version of real life with his reaction to the suicide of his twin brother. Other than a half-hearted attempt to take his own life, he is stone passive -- even in the face of a gun wielded by his own nephew James (Jim Myron Ross) -- and oblivious to everything from his pet dog to his derelict gas-bar/convenience-store business.
Ross is the other practically mute revelation. Addicted to video games, among other things, the 12-year-old owes money to drug-dealing gangstas who mean business. The acquisition of a gun gives him a little leverage, but also ensnares him even further in the miserable, poverty-driven muck that infests his school.
When his predicament literally blows up (in the only scene in this slow-paced movie propelled by violence), it forces his ex-addict mother Marlee (Tarra Riggs) to come to some sort of understanding with Lawrence, whose brother -- James' father -- had abandoned them.
Ballast is a small, melancholy slice of life, with lots of breathing room for metaphors, such as cotton fields. Hammer is particularly enamoured of trains, a symbol of a better life up north (ironically enough, they're CN trains). There is a beginning, an open-ended finale, some misunderstandings and modest redemption.
The viewer should come in knowing what he or she is, and is not, getting. I'm not always a fan of Dogme's conventions -- too dogmatic, if you will. Moreover, if Blair Witch or Cloverfield made you nauseated, you might want to steer clear of most of the genre.
But Hammer has a steady hand on his hand-held camera, making it feel less like a contrivance than a fly-on-the-wall.
This is not an approach that has found fertile ground in North America, but Hammer -- who honed his teeth, ironically enough, as a designer on big Hollywood movies -- takes it farther than most.
Whether this kind of movie can find fans in a culture that worships snappy dialogue and the grandiloquent gestures of movie stars is another question altogether. But Ballast is a movie that insinuates itself, and forces you to think about it later, and that alone makes it stand out.
(This film is rated 14-A)
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