EDINBURGH, Scotland — "I'll have a beer," says Robert Byington — "Bob," as he introduces himself to strangers — in a voice that slides from the recesses of his nasal cavities and out past his lips in a lazy drone. "That one," says the Austin-based filmmaker, pointing to a red label in a glass case behind the counter, and the barman plucks out a bottle of beer, snapping off the cap in one seamless motion.
"I don't know what you're supposed to drink here," Byington says, in thick horn-rimmed glasses and a fuzzy gray sweater.
The writer-director is referring to Edinburgh, home to the annual Edinburgh International Film Festival and host to the European premiere of his most recent film, "Harmony and Me."
The film, which was shot in Austin over the spring of 2008, is a follow-up to the critically acclaimed "RSO: Registered Sex Offender" and stars Bishop Allen frontman and Andrew Bujalski-favorite Justin Rice ("Mutual Appreciation," "Funny Ha Ha"). The film debuted to international audiences on June 19.
"Let's not talk about Bujalski," Byington quips over the loudening chatter of the Lounge, a backroom bar in the belly of the festival headquarters. "He gets enough press."
Facetious requests aside, it's difficult not to notice the Bujalskiesque similarities in "Harmony and Me." Even Byington concedes that the film is a "begrudgingly authorized sequel" to "Mutual Appreciation," and although he marches on in the mumblecore tradition of his filmmaking contemporary, the quirky and often farcical details of "Harmony and Me," most of which are based on events from the director's personal life, outshine its influences.
"Somebody walked up to me," Byington recalls, "and asked me to sign a card and said that this guy had a day to live." This incident is replayed in one of the initial scenes of "Harmony," in which a co-worker approaches Rice's character and asks him to sign a card for their terminally ill boss. "What do you write?" he asks rhetorically. "So I just signed my name."
Byington then says that he was at the Spider House Cafe around the same time and overheard an acquaintance shouting at someone on the telephone. "They were yelling about one of those vacuum cleaners that you rent at H-E-B. He hung up the phone and was like, 'Yeah, that was my wife and she doesn't know how to use the vacuum.' Those two events were the springboard for the movie."
Well, that and the undying pain of heartbreak. "It was the definite overlay," Byington says, although he's unsure about how much of himself he actually fused into the lovelorn and melancholic title character.
According to Byington, most of "Harmony," at least in the final days of the script, was written with Rice in mind. The casting, along with cameos from other Austin live music stalwarts such as Bob Schneider and Jerm Pollet, underscores the film's thematic elements of music as a means to work through pain.
Beyond the film, Byington says, much of his professional success has been based on the ability to harness creativity in times of grief, even at the start of his career.
In 1993, he traveled to Australia to visit his mother and a friend. A week before, his friend had been killed in a drunken-driving accident, and Byington wasn't told until after he landed in Australia. "I was sort of despondent and a little out of it, so I just wrote a script instead of doing anything else."
He concedes that he hadn't done much writing before the tragedy, although, in retrospect, the situation "turned out to be ideal because it forced me to write ... I didn't come out of a room for three weeks."
Byington says he sees himself today at a crossroads in his career. "I can either make a movie for low budget ... or I can try and make a movie with bigger actors and more money."
Byington's speaking of his newest project, "Seven Chinese Brothers," which is set to start filming in Austin in the fall. The film is loosely based on the second track of the 1984 REM album "Reckoning" and would be the final addition to what he calls his "Austin trilogy."
"That's pretentious, to use the word 'trilogy' in your own work," Byington says. "Uh, I'm making a trilogy ... Yes, I'm working on a trilogy."
In the meantime, he says he's enjoying the festival screenings of "Harmony and Me."
Before arriving in Edinburgh, "Harmony and Me" screened to warm
receptions at the CineVegas Film Festival in Las Vegas, Nev., and the
New Directors/New Films festival in Manhattan. Over the weekend,
Byington was in L.A. for more screenings at the Los Angeles Film
Festival.
— Originally featured in the Austin American-Statesman and on Austin360.com
GLASGOW, Scotland — Outside the tiny Soviet-inspired Bar Bloc, it was a typical spring night in Glasgow: A humid chill swaddled the city and rain spat on sideways as the sun receded behind the brown tenements and a kaleidoscope of gray filled the sky. Inside, wooden tables outnumbered warm bodies and framed a path to a small stage where the Austin-based instrumental sextet Balmorhea played, silhouetted by red light and evoking a cinematic soundscape that moved the listener from a cold, nearly empty bar in Scotland to the epic pastorals of West Texas.
The narrative symphonic elements of Balmorhea, paired with the experimental and folk music influences of co-founders Michael Muller and Rob Lowe, have garnered comparisons to Glaswegian post-rock icons Mogwai and celebrated cinematic composers Max Richter ('Waltz With Bashir') and Yann Tiersen ('Amelie').
Although the complex sound of a band like Balmorhea typically avoids genre classification by nature, Lowe says, such comparisons aren't off the mark. The 'cinematic' band recently has been hired by French writer-director Kim Chapiron to score the film 'Dog Pound,' which is set to be released in France next spring.
In light of this professional accomplishment, Muller conceded that the band's fan base in Europe is 'way more than America' and even credited a theater performance in the coastal Italian town of Rimini as having been 'the best concert (the band) ever played.' Lowe added that some fans traveled almost the width of Italy to attend their most obscure shows, while in larger cities such as London and Glasgow, most fans simply failed to show up at all.
'It's hard to gauge why people come to your shows,' Lowe said about sparse attendance at U.K. dates. 'I don't know if it's actually a good barometer to tell how many fans you have in a city.'
The May 6 performance at Bar Bloc marked the two-thirds point of a one-month tour in support of Balmorhea's fourth release, 'All Is Wild, All Is Silent.'
The venue, outfitted in an ironic sickle and hammer aesthetic, modern art and wood-slatted walls, was unequipped to handle the size or sound of the band. Low ceilings and a tiny stage forced the classically trained Lowe to forgo the use of his electric piano, which shot holes in their intended set, Muller said.
Some of the piano-driven highlights from 'All Is Wild,' such as the layered and crescendoed 'Harm and Boon,' as well as the somber dialogue of 'Truth,' were replaced with the string-based tracks from the band's repertoire.
The standout was 'Remembrance,' a nostalgic and despairing tune that opened with the sparse rhythm of Muller's acoustic guitar, layered with the respective picking of Lowe on banjo, Aisha Burns on violin and Travis Chapman on double bass. Slowly, as the song inched forward, the whine of Burns' violin led the listener further inside the musical narrator, marrying the deep mournful hum of Nicole Kern's cello to the rattle and eventual release of Bruce Blay's explosive percussion. At the close, the song doubled back with the return of the banjo and a final, haunting exchange between the violin and a lone melodica.
The diversity of the band is showcased not only within the menagerie of instruments or the raw, creative talent of its members, but also in the emotional and narrative variety of their music. At one moment, the band captures the listener in a bittersweet and tortured requiem, such as 'Remembrance,' and in another, the listener is again captive, a witness to the hope and happiness of wide open spaces and impending change, such as within the Texas-inspired 'Coahuila.'
This diversity and artistry is what propels the popularity of
Balmorhea and ensures the longevity of its members' respective careers
— be it in film score, within a groundbreaking neoclassical rock band,
or straddling the fence between both.
— Originally featured in the Austin American-Statesman and on Austin360.com
