[Jon Fortgang: journalist, editor, writer]
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Trees Lounge (1996)

Steve Buscemi writes, directs and stars in this low-key tale of a thirsty suburban loser
At one point in the 1990s, it seemed that Steve Buscemi was required by law to appear in every US indie film. This was his first shot at writing and directing and the result is a smart, subtle character piece with darkly comic leanings.

Tommy Basilio (Buscemi) is an unemployed mechanic drinking away his days at the Trees Lounge, the grimy local where everybody knows his name. His former girlfriend is now with his former boss, and though Tommy's a decent guy his life is going nowhere slowly. Unexpectedly, he inherits his uncle's ice cream van and, even more unexpectedly, forms a quasi-romantic alliance with 17-year-old Debbie (Sevigny).

As tends to be the case after a day on the sauce, Trees Lounge is not overly concerned with plot but beyond the funny, sad, sozzled vibe is a potent slice-of-life that ranks among Buscemi's best work.

The lack of narrative drive means the characters have time to breathe and the film's full of wry reflections on life at the bar. Sometimes they're funny, as when Tommy accepts a bet that he can't buy a drink and then not drink it. (He can't.) Other times they're painful: notably Tommy's encounters with Bill, a cantankerous dipsomaniac whose fate, the conclusion suggests, may eventually be Tommy's own.

At the film's core is the relationship between Tommy and Debbie. There's a little fooling around but theirs is essentially an honest, supportive friendship - she has ambition, he has imagination, and may once have had ambition too. Both instinctively recoil from their grim surroundings but only Debbie has the energy to escape.

Reputedly drawing on his own time as a suburban barfly, Buscemi's writing is sensitive without ever being sentimental, and in its depiction of a life measured out in quarts and gills, Trees Lounge is a low key triumph. Catch this on an emtpy afternoon in a week that's headed nowhere and you can taste the nicotine on your tongue while tomorrow's hangover gathering force.


This review originally appeared at Film4.com
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