THE STORY – A recently discovered conversation between photographer Peter Hujar and his friend Linda Rosenkrantz in 1974 reveals a glimpse into New York City’s downtown art scene and the personal struggles and epiphanies that define an artist’s life.
THE CAST – Ben Whishaw & Rebecca Hall
THE TEAM – Ira Sachs (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 76 Minutes
As most people who’ve crested the age of 30-ish know, there’s pleasure in routine. It’s a blessing to wake up every day in a place of safety and carry out the simple tasks that comprise a day. Making coffee, getting the mail, cleaning the house – unironically, these can be the things that make life worth living. With his latest film, “Peter Hujar’s Day,” filmmaker Ira Sachs delves into human practice and procedure with a concept that pushes against – and sometimes beyond – the typical concept of narrative film. It’s closer to a long-form art installation than the type of movie that would play in a theater. It doesn’t always make for a compelling watch, but the film is preoccupied with other priorities than being audience-friendly (make of that what you will).
The film is adapted from unusual nonfiction material. In 1974, writer Linda Rosenkrantz (Rebecca Hall) sat down with photographer Peter Hujar (Ben Whishaw) as part of an unrealized project where she recorded her artist colleagues and friends recounting their previous day. Hujar went through the circumstances and happenings of his life on December 19. “Peter Hujar’s Day” uses the transcript of that interview (it might be more accurately described as a monologue, given how much Hujar is shown speaking compared to Rosenkrantz) and depicts Hujar relaying his day to Rosenkrantz in explicit, sometimes agonizing detail.
If that sounds like an unexciting premise for a film, that’s because it is. The film flirts with – and occasionally crosses over into – being blatantly dull. Hujar spends most of the film lounging with a constantly burning cigarette in hand, describing his meals, errands, daily tasks, and encounters with figures both familiar to the audience (he name-drops New York icons of the time, including William S. Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, and Fran Lebowitz) and total strangers. His houseplant watering schedule gets nearly as vivid a description as his interactions with members of the celebrity intelligentsia.
It’s a decidedly trying cinematic experiment, with every second of the 76-minute runtime pointedly felt by viewers. This quote from Chantal Akerman, director of “Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles,” comes to mind: “You know, when most people go to the movies, the ultimate compliment – for them – is to say, ‘We didn’t notice the time pass!’ With me, you see the time pass. And feel it pass…I took two hours of someone’s life.” There’s a strange profundity in watching two actors portray two real-life people who are almost certainly strangers to most viewers, discussing a subject that might be uninteresting to even those closest to them. It forces contemplation as to what’s worthy of being turned into art in the first place. Like Marcel Duchamp’s “Fountain,” “Peter Hujar’s Day“ uses the sub-ordinary to expand the very definition of art. And like most modern art, it’s not for everyone.
For a movie so understated in content, a lot is asked of its two stars in terms of characterization. Namely, with them both being English actors portraying East Coast Americans, they must completely change their speaking styles, which both Whishaw and Hall do flawlessly (Hall’s adoption of a thick Bronx accent is delightful). This level of transformation gives the film an additional layer of fictionalization, and given that the movie is entirely the two of them speaking, the illusion must be perfect. Thankfully, the two talented actors are up to the task. Whishaw, in particular, has a fantastic ability to portray the off-the-cuff nature of the character. He’s effortlessly able to appear genuinely speaking his thoughts as they occur while still finding variety in his line readings to keep his performance from being monotonous.
Sachs infuses more filmmaking flourishes into his film than the concept may appear to allow. Alex Ashe’s grainy cinematography – combined with the non-flashy but handsome 70s costumes (by Eric Daman and Khadija Zeggaï) and sets (by Stephen Phelps, Ryan Scott Fitzgerald, and Christopher Phelps) – transports the film to 1974. Smartly, Sachs changes up the locations throughout the apartment (and at times, they travel up to the roof, allowing for some gorgeous sunset shots), along with – somewhat mysteriously – the costumes worn by the pair, which gives the conversation welcome breaks and distinct chapters.
Early in their conversation, Hujar asks Rosenkrantz, “Is this boring?“ and she replies, “It’s not boring to me.“ “Peter Hujar’s Day“ is the type of film that gives viewers as much as they’re willing to receive. It’s best to approach it with a completely open mind (which is how all art should ideally be experienced). It’s equally frustrating and fascinating, excruciating and engrossing, lifeless and lively.
