Few films can come close to the fun and charm and class of Woody Allen's best romantic comedies, but Burning Annie does everything it can to come close on its low-budget, DV-style. It was made on the cheap, but there's a lot of heart put into it, and the characters end up being in some wider depths of range than expected. There's the insecurities faced, the shallowness, the admittance of guys as potential 'failures', albeit out of a kind of lackadaisical malaise college brings on, and how relationships- cliché included here- are hard work. Max (Gary Lundy) tries to break off from his biggest hang-up, which is watching Annie Hall like it was going out of style. For him it starts to seem as some kind of crazy sign that he cant hold on to relationships due to the movie. So he stops watching it after his last girlfriend left him. Enter in Julie (Sarah Downing), who apparently, according to his friends is a bit like the Annie character. Can he deal with this, or will he finally succumb to the bliss of a person he likes to be around with, his neuroses attached and all. Maybe there's only so much of Allen in Max, and by the end he has to get to terms with what's really in him and what's not in being with those he wants to be with.
What makes the comedy rich is in the simplicity and expectations. The latter could be a problem, but the actors are fairly capable of taking on some of the nuances of Zack Ordynans's script. The friends of Max- Charles, Sam, Tommy- veer sometimes into becoming caricatures, but they get pulled back by the realities of their lives (college doldrums, there own dysfunctional attachments and ties with the opposite sex), and they all usually get their own piece of character depth. I really liked specific moments in such characters in homage-style to Woody's film, like when the guys are in the store, and suddenly it spins over to the other side of the store, breaking the 'fourth wall', seeing the uneasiness of an awkward admittance from one to another that they like the other. It's been seen many times over, but it's clever in the actors simple marks on what their characters are about from scene to scene (fairly consistent, especially with the completely insecure Max as played in average manner by Lundy). I also loved the dinner scene where all the couples came together, only to see how things could crumble so easily in social situations.
Themes end up coming out well enough too even through the occasionally weak direction (a shot or two is pleasant enough, with some good tinting, but it's best when the director just lets the actors have their way with the material). Commitment, both to the other in a relationship is one of them, but not just in the rudimentary sense always, and Max's own two-sided self that becomes in conflict when hapless wit has to contend with more stable, down-to-earth emotions. The script is aware of not just the effect of pop culture on college kids (the Kevin Smith and Goldeneye dialog is pretty sweet), but of the labels brought out in such situations. Not that it's always completely successful; the ending felt a little on the uneasy side due to what happens in motivations between Julie and Max, as well as the dialog in the last dorm scene with the guys. But for the most part Burning Annie has charm to spare, even through typical scenes like at a rock club, and quiet little moments like playing hockey video-games and with a few great zingers put in there: "ooh, Snow Dogs." It's a little indie 'rom-com' that strikes much better at its narrow goals when compared to sociopathic case-studies in the guise of believable Hollywood relationship fodder. 7.5/10
What makes the comedy rich is in the simplicity and expectations. The latter could be a problem, but the actors are fairly capable of taking on some of the nuances of Zack Ordynans's script. The friends of Max- Charles, Sam, Tommy- veer sometimes into becoming caricatures, but they get pulled back by the realities of their lives (college doldrums, there own dysfunctional attachments and ties with the opposite sex), and they all usually get their own piece of character depth. I really liked specific moments in such characters in homage-style to Woody's film, like when the guys are in the store, and suddenly it spins over to the other side of the store, breaking the 'fourth wall', seeing the uneasiness of an awkward admittance from one to another that they like the other. It's been seen many times over, but it's clever in the actors simple marks on what their characters are about from scene to scene (fairly consistent, especially with the completely insecure Max as played in average manner by Lundy). I also loved the dinner scene where all the couples came together, only to see how things could crumble so easily in social situations.
Themes end up coming out well enough too even through the occasionally weak direction (a shot or two is pleasant enough, with some good tinting, but it's best when the director just lets the actors have their way with the material). Commitment, both to the other in a relationship is one of them, but not just in the rudimentary sense always, and Max's own two-sided self that becomes in conflict when hapless wit has to contend with more stable, down-to-earth emotions. The script is aware of not just the effect of pop culture on college kids (the Kevin Smith and Goldeneye dialog is pretty sweet), but of the labels brought out in such situations. Not that it's always completely successful; the ending felt a little on the uneasy side due to what happens in motivations between Julie and Max, as well as the dialog in the last dorm scene with the guys. But for the most part Burning Annie has charm to spare, even through typical scenes like at a rock club, and quiet little moments like playing hockey video-games and with a few great zingers put in there: "ooh, Snow Dogs." It's a little indie 'rom-com' that strikes much better at its narrow goals when compared to sociopathic case-studies in the guise of believable Hollywood relationship fodder. 7.5/10