THE STORY – Inspired by Francis Coppola’s concept of Live Cinema, Brother Verses Brother is a radically personal musical odyssey. Combative twin musicians hunt for their dying poet father, in an improvisation performed by the director’s own family, in a single unbroken shot through the streets of San Francisco. One brother seeks love and excitement, while the other seeks to disappear into his music. But as night falls and their father remains missing, their frantic safari leads them from the secret haunts of the Beat poets into the heart of their family. Their tale becomes a testament to the power of music, brotherhood, & the lifeblood of a city – experienced by the viewer in real-time.
THE CAST – Ari Gold, Ethan Gold, Lara Louise, Brian Bell, Herbert Gold, Tongo Eisen-Martin & John Flanigan
THE TEAM – Ari Gold (Director/Writer), Ethan Gold, and the Cast (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 91 Minutes
There’s a whole swath of stories that revolve around a group of characters exploring a particular city’s landscape over the course of a few hours. It’s a rather magical experience to observe, one that can reveal not just the appreciation of a physical location but also the emotional bonds that can be formed. It’s an intimate act that plays out in public, almost transgressive in how such open endearment is expressed in such a public forum. Perhaps it is that dichotomy that creates the engrossing tension that causes us to fall into the introspective lives of these characters. There are many hallmarks that “Brother Versus Brother” finds itself playing into, with loving homage to the subgenre while also celebrating the bursting creativity at the center. Those are elements to admire, even if that expressive enthusiasm is built upon conventional foundation.
The setting here is San Francisco, and the story is relatively simple. Twin brothers Ari and Ethan Gold, playing versions of themselves, are traversing around the city with instruments in hand. Ari, the more boisterous personality, has his ukulele, while Ethan, slightly more timid and intellectual, carries a guitar. The pair roam from different bars and play their songs with the intention of helping Ethan secure a steady gig. But it’s also meant to be a chance to perform for their ailing father, who’s promised to make an appearance to see them play but has yet to show up. As the evening goes on, the brothers find themselves hopping from one establishment after another, heartily enjoying the music while also bickering about their personal and creative failings. Joined on their odyssey is another singer, Louise (Lara Louise), who finds charm in each of them and a small romantic notion brewing for one. The more time passes, the more they revel in the music and confront their tumultuous feelings beneath the surface.
There’s an interesting quality to the filmmaking that feels both lackadaisical but also very controlled. The story is told in one unbroken take, or at least is made to look like it when you don’t pay attention to the digital stitching that is meant to bridge separately shot scenes together. In doing so, the sense of these events being played out in real-time is heightened, and the intentional meandering gives way to a genuine sense of discovery when one wanders through the city streets and uncovers some new locations to settle into. This method also, as it usually does, creates a fixed pacing that can’t ever be altered through editing and hinders some of the momentum. The passage of time can be difficult to place exactly, which can be frustrating when piecing together the whole story. At the same time, Ari, as the film’s director, has a keen sense of luxury in these spaces, taking pleasure in being enveloped by the artistry of the music created with a sincere emotional core. The songs are a blend of indie pop and folk, a nod to the Beanick roots of the brothers’ father that is delivered with the same poetic tenor. Not every aspect of this journey is worthwhile, but much of it is a charming portrait being crafted.
The storytelling would probably be more effective were it not for the pedestrian structures it is built around. While the gliding camera makes for a more daring presentation, especially on this scale, the actual dynamics between the characters are far less intriguing. While both brothers are credited as writers, the film is heavily improvised, which has a way of making conversations realistic but also lacks a kinetic spark to push forward in a more compelling manner. There is also a clear distinction between two men: the extrovert vs. the introvert, the loud one vs. the quiet one, and the raucous romantic vs. the pessimistic pragmatist. It’s a very simple juxtaposition that doesn’t ever find any more layers of complexity. Just more cyclical conversations that are padding between the musical numbers. The ancillary characters around them aren’t fleshed out either, even though Louise has an entire backstory to her that would make for riveting rapport, as well as their elderly father, who passed away weeks after filming at age ninety-nine. The deeper explorations of familial and artistic history are flirted with, but not in a meaningful way that would add any gravitas to this narrative.
It’s quite clear that acting is not the first calling of either Ari or Ethan. It’s not to say their performances are remarkably terrible in any capacity, but they aren’t that remarkable at all. Having to inhabit such pedestrian archetypes, even if taken from real-life inspiration, doesn’t imbue their portrayals with much nuance either. Given the nature of their characters, Ari is the one who has a more natural screen presence, while the awkwardness of Ethan’s delivery blurs the line between authentic and stiff. There’s not much to be gained from Louise either, even though this is probably due more to her shallowness of the role as it has been conceived, forced to walk beside this pair while hardly contributing her own thoughts and feelings to make the situation more captivating. Even the tender moment finally revealed with their father quickly wears out its welcome with how flatly it’s shot. There is a cameo from Brian Bell of the band Weezer, who is alluring in his brief appearance and oddly may have delivered the film’s best performance. Perhaps it’s because his nonchalant attitude as Ari tries to interrupt his interest in Louise is mildly amusing enough to warrant a smile. He manages to stick out in a cast that only serviceably supports the material.
“Brother Versus Brother” passes itself off as something that is both radical but also commonplace. Its technique has a bold showcase for its budget, and the improvised nature has an atmosphere of unpredictability. That’s why it’s disappointing to see the story ultimately succumb to mundane archetypes and predictable resolutions. Still, there’s an open acknowledgment that the finer details of character and narrative are not the priority here. And when it simply wants to celebrate the music created by this pair, songs full of genuine passion and soulfulness, it’s hard not to be charmed by the display. Despite its faults, there’s an endearing core that’s as absorbing as the bustling city landscape filled with interesting stories. Maybe that doesn’t apply to every facet of this particular tale, but enough to find it slightly enthralling.
