Let's Go to the Tape

Low-budget films don't really come any cheaper than Tape, a small movie from 2001 adapted from a play by Stephen Belber. It was directed by Richard Linklater, who called upon the star of his indie darling Before Sunrise, Ethan Hawke. The movie was also a reunion of Hawke with his Gattaca co-star, Uma Thurman. And rounding out the cast was Robert Sean Leonard, of House and Dead Poets Society fame. In fact, those three are the only actors in the entire film.

As small as the cast is, the setting is even smaller. Tape unfolds in real time inside a cheap motel room, and as far as I can tell, the movie was actually filmed in one. The limited lighting and often-awkward handheld camera further indicates the confined space. If short, if you'd thought of this idea first, you could have filmed one of the cheapest movies ever made.

But that's not to say that Tape isn't good. As is typical for a tightly unified play, it's all about the story and the acting. Tape unfolds 10 years after the high school graduation of the three characters. Drug-addled Vince invites his old friend Jon to the motel room to reunite and catch up on old times. But Vince steadily steers the conversation to his former girlfriend Amy, with whom Jon had an encounter all those years ago. As things heat up, the conversation turns to whether or not Jon raped Amy 10 years ago, and Vince is revealed to be trying to tape record a confession. When Amy herself arrives on the scene, the tense situation becomes even more heightened.

Some of the dialogue in Tape is a bit off, contrived in moments and overly polished in others. It's a sort of heightened way of speaking that is common to the stage, and works well in that environment. It's often less successful on the screen, with the camera (and thus the audience) right up in the faces of the characters.

But mostly, Tape really works. By 15 minutes in, I wasn't noticing the odd turns of phrase very much. By 30 minutes in, I was riveted, waiting to see what happened next. And the whole thing works thanks to the strength of the three actors involved. With no other characters of any kind, there can't be a weak leg in the tripod -- and there isn't. In a brisk 90 minutes, the film serves up laughs and chills. It called to my mind Hitchcock's famous film Rope, and while some may think it sacrilege for me to say so, I think it actually outperformed Rope.

I give Tape a B. If you interested in seeing some good performances, it's definitely worth your time.