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The Brass Teapot
[Blu-ray]
Blu-ray A - America - Magnolia Pictures Review written by and copyright: Ethan Stevenson (30th August 2013). |
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The Film
 “Most people kill themselves for decades and get nowhere.” Know that old saying no pain, no gain? “The Brass Teapot” takes that euphemism literally. And could similarly be applied un-ironically to the experience of watching the film, which has a few rocky patches, but is ultimately worth your time. In high school, Alice (Juno Temple) and John (Michael Angarano) would’ve made an unlikely couple. They simply didn’t move in the same circles. She was popular. He was… not. (He was, and it seems, as the film progresses still is, a sort of nerd extraordinaire, as it were). However, in their twenties John and Alice somehow found each other, fell in love, and got married. All of that happened before we meet them amidst a palpable post-collegiate lull in life. John works a mind numbing desk job; Alice has learned the hard way that a simple bachelor’s degree doesn’t mean much anymore. They’re barely getting by—somewhere well beyond broke—living in a small house they can hardly afford to rent, driving the beat up Ford Pinto seen on the cover of this Blu-ray. They have few friends; seemingly, only John’s best friend and his wife, played by Bobby Moynihan and Alia Shawkat ever have time for them. And their family is always nagging them about having kids—something neither Alice nor John are ready for. Despite the doldrums of their day-to-day existence, the couple is unusually chipper all the same, happy in their painful midwestern mediocrity because they have each other. That’s not to say, if the chance to better their financial, friend and familial situations presented itself in the form of a wish-fulfilling, moneymaking teapot, they wouldn’t use the hell out of it—even if they had to hurt some people in the process. Without the titular teapot in director Ramaa Mosley’s “The Brass Teapot”—a kitschy kettle at the center of this story that gives the picture its fantastical, fairytale-esque skew—her film would just be a small, semi-indie rom-dramedy about a young twenty-something couple trying, and mostly failing, to make something of themselves; restore the luster to their lacking, repetitively dull life. A life that’s ultimately worth living because, obstacles—be them financial, familial, or otherwise—and all, the couple’s love one another seems to know no bounds, and perseveres in the end. Without the teapot, “Brass” would still be worthwhile, because it’d still have two strong central characters played by two actors who have terrific on screen chemistry. And with the teapot? Well… with the teapot—specifically, this teapot, which gives its owners money for self-harm, and for harming others—things get interesting. Alice acquires the brass teapot through unusual circumstances. She’s drawn to a roadside thrift store by some mysterious force, and uncharacteristically steals the ornate kettle. It isn’t until she’s brought it home that she discovers the pot pours out cash whenever Alice or John gets hurt. The payout varies. A burn from the stove? That’s a few hundred bucks. A paper cut? Hey, that might still be $20. A pulled tooth could net thousands, especially if no Novocain were involved. At least at first, physical violence—either self inflicted, or inflicted on each other—seems to have the highest pain-to-gain payout. But the slight genius of the film, and indeed it is slight, is that emotional pain pays even better. Coupled with the fact that the teapot’s thirst for violence is sated only by escalation—an act that once paid out hundreds may only pay dollars after a few days—the film’s premise, and fairytale skew, takes a dark turn in its second and third act, although never as dark as perhaps you’re (or certainly I was) expecting. And therein lies what makes a pleasant surprise; what in other hands would’ve turned “Teapot” into a twisted torture porn-y picture, where either Alice, John or both went on a rampage against those who wronged them in life—John’s boss; Alice’s old high school clique—instead takes a more insular approach. Alice and John begin hurting each other, and then hurting others, on a deeper emotionally scarring level, reveling in the material rewards of their hurtful actions and words. Based on a short story by Tim Macy, and adapted from a short film that Mosley and Macy made together in 2007, “Brass” suffers from some of the usual issues that come from expanding a short-form premise to the big screen. The film is both over-stuffed—particularly when it comes to needlessly explaining the origins of the mystical money-giving teapot, and the evil doings done for its payout—and somewhat empty at the same time. A bizarre subplot with a pair of blackjack wielding Hasidic Jews, who claim the teapot is their rightful inheritance—and beat John for it, then rob him, twice, when he refuses to give it up—and another tangential thread with an Asian doctor (Steve Park) who specializes in the history and recovery of ancient artifacts like the teapot, pose the most glaring problems, if only because both drop less than subtle hints that some of the worst events in human history, including WWII—in particular, Hitler’s Final Solution—are the result of the teapot falling into wrong hands. There’s something that rubs me the wrong about the whole thing. The film would probably be strong without the poor attempt of applying blacker-than-black humor to the Holocaust. The saving grace in all this are Angarano and Temple, who have such fantastic chemistry on screen that the film holds together, and rights its wrong, even through the incongruent elements, subverted expectations, and wandering tone; the outlandish moments of overexcited magic and mysticism are grounded by their presence and performances. Angarano proves a capable physical comedian, beating himself up better than, well, those who beat John up for him; Temple gives Alice a sweetness with a hint of glib sarcasm, and does a good job of making a character that couldn’t turned nasty, nice. Although an unlikely pair, Angarano and Temple work wonderfully on screen. Other solid turns include Moynihan and Shawkat as a similarly fantastically fun and odd couple, and Alexis Bledel, who plays against type as a phoney, vindictive, scrunch-faced suburban housewife. (Oh, Rory Gilmore, what would Lorali say?!) There are issues but, in the end, “The Brass Teapot” is a competent film, especially for the work of a first time writer/director. It’s clever, at times very funny and touching at others. It never quite overexploits its conceit, even if it does come dangerously in a few scenes. And the script even manages to wrap its message—although it can buy you material things, rarely does money or material possessions buy happiness—in a palatable package that’s not too patronizing. Credit, I can’t stress enough, to the actors, who constantly bring the film back to their characters, and their relationship with each other. Magic teapot and all, the film is simply about a husband and wife temporarily losing sight of what they should never take for granted—that they found someone who loves them, flaws and all. Perhaps some will warm to “The Brass Teapot”, flaws and all, too. I did.
Video
“The Brass Teapot” looks like a million bucks. Well, more like $900K if I’m honest—which is, apparently, how much it cost—but that’s neither here nor there. What I mean to say is, I don’t think anyone could mistake this movie for a massively budgeted studio picture, but it is surprisingly well shot, and possesses a visual style that sets it apart from similar fare. Cinematographer Peter Simonite’s camerawork is remarkably assured. He unexpectedly but effectively employs cranes (which are rarely seen in productions of this ilk; they’re expensive), dolly shots, and steadicam to deliver fluid camera moves that sort of run in the opposite direction to the seeming ubiquity of handheld work in low budget features. Simonite also takes care with his composition, and makes effective use of the 2.35:1 widescreen frame. Magnolia’s 1080p 24/fps high-def AVC MPEG-4 encoded transfer is actually pretty impressive, in part because of the excellent cinematography. Shot digitally, the resulting image has the ultra-sharp clarity of HD video, but just a hint of a film-like texture—which is presumably either very fine sensor noise or an artificial grain applied in post-production. Simonite favors shallow depth of field here, and his photography gives “Teapot” a relatively flat look, but colors are nicely saturated—and run the gamut from bright glossy hues to grungy earth tones—and contrast is clean and natural without boosting; blacks are inky. The image is unmolested by edge enhancement or unwanted noise reduction. The encode is free of any serious errors and egregious artifacts.
Audio
The DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 soundtrack (48kHz/24-bit) on the other hand is less impressive, and much more in tune with “Teapots” meagre means. Dialogue is crisp, and always intelligible. The track is essentially stereo; surrounds get very little use, and in fact seem to be reserved strictly for the constantly fleeting music cues, including songs by The Avett Brothers and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros (I told you it was a indie rom-dramedy through and through!) Optional subtitles are available in English and Spanish.
Extras
“The Brass Teapot” is authored with optional bookmarks, the resume playback function, and is BD-LIVE enabled. No online content is available at this time. The disc includes the following special features: First up is an audio commentary with director Ramaa Mosley and executive producer P. Jennifer Dana. Mosley takes the lead, and is joined by her producer partner about a half hour into the discussion; the script, cast and working on a tight budget (in Romania!) are all topics that the two, expectedly, touch on. The track is easy on the ears, with rarely a pause, and is packed with great stories from the set of a low-budget indie. "Prologue" alternate opening (1.78:1 widescreen 1080p; 3 minutes 9 seconds) is a scene that starts off the tale of the teapot in middle ages. It’s a silly scene, and was rightfully cut. The mythology of the magical teapot is such a small, ultimately unimportant, part of the film anyway; the original opening is not missed. The rest of the deleted scenes (2.35:1 widescreen 1080p; 12 minutes 21 seconds)—there’s 12 in all, viewable only in one long reel—were likewise trimmed with good reason. Most of the material is merely extensions of scenes seen in the final film. “Uncovering: The Brass Teapot” (1.78:1 widescreen 1080p; 26 minutes 38 seconds) is a mockumentary featurette that Mosley and short story writer Tim Macy worked on before expanding the concept into a full-length film. “Interview with Director Ramaa Mosley” (1.78:1 widescreen 1080i; 7 minutes 24 seconds) is a featurette with the filmmaker providing an overview of the film and its production. Basically a shorted version of the commentary—some of the salient points anyway. In a similar vein, “Interview with Michael Angarano” (1.78:1 widescreen 1080i; 6 minutes 2 seconds) is a featurette with the actor discussing his character, and working with his co-star, Juno Temple. “AXS TV: A Look at ‘The Brass Teapot’” (2.35:1 widescreen 1080i; 4 minutes 50 seconds) is a promo featurette for the film, which played on Magnolia’s cable channel sibling AXS TV. It’s comprised of film clips and excerpts from the various interviews found in full in the other extras above. A theatrical trailer (2.35:1 widescreen 1080p; 2 minutes 12 seconds) for the film is also included. Finally, the following bonus trailers play before the main menu, and are also accessible in the extras under a submenu marked “Also From Magnolia Home Entertainment”: - “Kiss of the Damned” (2.40:1 widescreen 1080p, 2 minutes 30 seconds). - “Shadow Dancer” (1.85:1 widescreen 1080p, 1 minute 54 seconds). - “To the Wonder” (2.40:1 widescreen 1080p, 1 minute 58 seconds). - “Venus and Serena” (1.78:1 widescreen 1080p, 2 minutes 30 seconds). - "Axs.tv" promo (1.78:1 widescreen 1080i, 40 seconds).
Packaging
Magnolia Home Entertainment packages the “The Brass Teapot” in an Elite Blu-ray keep case. The dual layered BD-50 is locked to Region A.
Overall
Great chemistry is great chemistry. It’s the fine performances from Angarano and Temple as the film’s central couple, and not the titular teapot, which makes “The Brass Teapot” worth watching. The Blu-ray has very good video, sufficient but front-heavy audio, and a few decent extras. Certainly worth a look, especially if you’re a fan of the cast.
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