Bujalski's second feature is as unassuming as advertised, but leaves with the viewer an unique and moving feeling worth noting both for its penetrating depth and surface effects. Never in Mutual Appreciation's 110 minutes do we feel manipulated into a particular point of view or emotion, and Grunsky's camera never seems to try to lend meaning that isn't there. Instead Bujalski uses the medium in a wholly natural manner, one which is true to the time and experiences the film's characters move through, building the narrative to an emotional head brought about entirely by the passions and needs of his principal actors. It's a technique that can be difficult at first to appreciate specifically because it eschews virtuosity and the kind of razzle-dazzle that leaves structure, acting, and personal connection in the lurch, but as Mutual Appreciation plays out, it becomes clear that we are in the hands of a young master, one who can find profundity and practical importance in everyday interaction. Bujalski can see what people need at the most basic level and, with that, points toward bigger messages rather than telegraphing a sound-bite-ready understanding. Few American filmmakers working today (of any age) better understand the power of art to communicate a state of mind rather than a single, finite exclamation.
Review of Mutual Appreciation
