PERSONAL VELOCITY
Intelligent chick flick.
Running time: 90 minutes. Rated R (brief violence, some strong sexuality and language) At the Angelika and the First & 62nd Cinemas.
REBECCA Miller’s intelligent troika of vignettes about female empowerment, “Personal Velocity,” is a lesson in how to wring potency from fairly conventional situations and wrest pure entertainment from tightly drawn purse strings.
Individually, the tales showcase the talents of three supremely talented indie actresses, but praise for the collective impact belongs with Miller, who adapted the film, on a shoestring budget, from her own book of short stories.
Rarely does the use of voice-over come off as anything but a lazy cop-out, but in this case, John Ventimiglia’s wry, funny narration enhances the non-linear story lines, which feature inventive use of static photo shots, flashbacks and alternate realities.
The women in each of the stories are damaged, spooked and running – yet Miller (daughter of playwright Arthur, wife of Daniel Day-Lewis) admirably resists the pull of Lifetime schmaltz.
A footloose Kyra Sedgwick is truly wonderful as a sassy battered wife whose intimidatingly tough swagger and stoic silence belie inner turmoil in the first segment, titled “Delia.”
A teen tart, she married her high-school sweetheart, who soon began subjecting her to the same vicious beatings her father once visited on her mother.
Taking her three children, she steals away into the night, seeking refuge with an old school acquaintance and ultimately regaining her self-esteem by flexing the sexual power that once made her queen of the schoolyard.
The second epiphany belongs to Greta (a typically acerbic Parker Posey), a book editor whose marriage to a milquetoast fact-checker is thrown into question when a latent streak of wild ambition is awakened by chance.
Fairuza Balk stars in the final installment, in which the linking device of a TV news flash comes home to roost.
She plays 21-year-old Paula, a gothic “creative type” who has unexpectedly fallen pregnant to her Haitian boyfriend. Fleeing from a freak near-death experience, she sees fate step in when she picks up a young male hitchhiker who’s been cruelly tortured.
Succinct yet detailed storytelling, evocative cinematography (by Ellen Kuras) and arresting central performances add up to a trio of engaging character portraits.