OFF THE MAP (U.S. / 2003)

The definition of whats considered an "independent" film nowadays has certainly broadened. In recent years, weve seen big-budget films financed by sub-divisions of major studios competing with the rest of the market, yet theyre still considered indies. However, that doesnt apply to Campbell Scotts Off the Map. Unlike those "pseudo-indies," it was made with as minuscule a budget as possible, but it languished without a distribution deal for nearly two years after premiering at Sundance in 2003. In most cases, the blame is placed on the distributors for not taking enough chances, but thats hard to do for Scott's effort. 

A voice-over narration -- overutilized here, which usually signals that the director doesnt have much confidence in his own abilities -- from a young woman takes us to the summer of 1974 when she was a precocious 11-year-old (Valentina de Angelis) living at an off-the-map location somewhere in New Mexico with her enterprising "earth mother" (Joan Allen) and an almost catatonic father (Sam Elliot). No one quite knows what ails the patriarch, but its probably not that they primarily live off the land and their makeshift house is devoid of any modern comforts. Then one day, another depressed soul, this time a tax-inspector, shows up at their paradise but conveniently passes out perhaps due to the overwhelming milieu or the fact that Allen was in the nude admiring the beauty of a nearby coyote. Needless to say, he ends up staying for a little longer than what anyone in the family expected, but he expectedly (at least to us) ends up bringing about certain changes to this unit. 

Scott has a lot going for him in Off the Map: the strong performances from Allen and Elliot; the breathtaking, Malick-esque visuals of Juan Ruiz Ancha; an unusual subject matter. But he fails to properly take advantage. Certainly, the stilted dialogue, part of a poorly written screenplay (surprisingly since writer Joan Ackermann adapted it from her own play) didnt help matters. Another problem here is that our young narrator is the least interesting character; her overly-theatrical performance is annoying to say the least. Instead of adapting a metaphysical and poetic stance (it's possible that he simply isnt capable), Scott chooses a more conventional approach for a film which moves in fits and starts, and ends up grinding to a halt.

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*Available on DVD in the U.S. (Sony)