One man, three women in 'Twelve Thirty'
Mamie Gummer as Maura in a scene from �Twelve Thirty� directed by Jeff Lipsky. In theatres on January 14, 2011. (Twelve Thirty Production) Credit: Twelve Thirty Production/
There are several first-rate performances in "Twelve Thirty," writer-director Jeff Lipsky's fourth feature and the fourth to explore in intimate detail Lipsky's idiosyncratic view of relationships, sex and the world. That the lead character is named Jeff (Jonathan Groff) makes it hard to leap to any other conclusion. Bringing one's idiosyncratic POV to the screen is the duty of any auteur, and that's what Lipsky is, even if his strengths lie in areas other than the conventionally cinematic.
It's as a director of actors that Lipsky seems to shine: Karen Young ("The Sopranos") delivers an eloquent, almost morbidly fascinating performance as Vivien, a woman of appetites in conflict with her sense of propriety, the result being a character with a wryly bitter tang; Reed Birney, as her estranged husband, Martin, provides a deft depiction of a man torn/amused by his inner demons. The two actors - aided by Lipsky's dialogue - make visceral their characters' brutal sense of self-knowledge, and a shared instability in the universe. They also share two daughters - Mel (Portia Reiners) and Maura (Mamie Gummer) - who couldn't be more different from each other, or their mother; all three women collide sexually with Jeff, to very different ends.
One can see why the likes of Young and Birney, or relative newcomers like Reiners, Gummer and Groff, would want to work with Lipsky - he provides the kind of breathing room and big scenes that allow for fully realized performances. At the same time, there are several sequences in "Twelve Thirty" that take place in total darkness and the viewer realizes the film would work as well, or better, on radio. The self-consciousness of the camera in this film is the equal of any character's, but not to any illuminating effect.
