Mark Reviews Movies: LONG WEEKEND (2021)

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Review by Mark Dujsik | March 11, 2021

The big question of Long Weekend is almost one of genre. What is this movie on a broad, categorical level? Is it a straightforward romance, as is presented for the entirety of the first act, or does it legitimately slip into something else with a single statement from one of the characters? More importantly, into what mode does this story shift when that statement is made?

The smart thing about writer/director Stephen Basilone's debut film is that, on a certain level, the question doesn't even matter. Whether this is a tale about one thing or another is unimportant, because it is, from start to finish, both a romance and a somewhat serious examination of the difficulties of letting go of the past, in order to let the present be what matters. It's kind of cheesy, for sure and especially considering the implications that either option about the true nature of one of these romantic partners, but the sincerity of Basilone's storytelling and these performances make the whole affair work well enough.

Bart (Finn Wittrock) has had it rough as of late. His mother died of cancer. His engagement to a woman he loved collapsed, because he was having some mental health issues and she couldn't or didn't want to deal with them.

It hasn't become easier. Bart is a struggling writer, and he's about to be without an apartment, because the rent increased. The good news is that he has a job interview and a friend named Doug (Damon Wayans Jr.), who has a wife and two young kids but also a garage, where Bart can stay as long as he wants or needs to. Doug, we learn, was the guy who convinced Bart to get some help with his mental health (although he's letting that go by the wayside, if the repeated calls from his doctor and his ex, who's his emergency contact, are any indication), and there's this pleasant, sturdy sweetness to that relationship as things get out of control for Bart, in ways he couldn't have anticipated.

After his job interview, Bart heads off to a movie theater with a half bottle of booze and passes out after mostly finishing off the bottle. He's awakened by Vienna (Zoe Chao), a mysterious woman who'd also like to get a drink. He could recommend a place—and maybe join her for a few.

The film begins—and continues all the way through, really—as a whirlwind romance between two attractive, charming, and genuinely likeable people. There isn't too much to these characters, save for Bart's old, as well as continuing, troubles and the constantly mysterious nature of Vienna, who has arrived in Los Angeles without an ID or a cellphone—but with stacks upon stacks of cash.

Bart thinks she's too good to be true—pulling out the phrase "manic pixie dream girl" to show that Basilone is aware of how seemingly shallow he has written Vienna. With equal meta-awareness, Vienna responds, "Do you think I'm going to save you?" To be fair, Basilone kind of stumbles in making Vienna more than either of these clichés by the end, but the path there has some neat idea, some intriguing things to say, and enough chemistry between the two leads to compensate for a payoff that kind of confirms this early self-aware joking.

It's the chemistry, really, that sells it. Wittrock and Chao are engaging, joking, and, above all else, playful together in this early stage, when the night out on the town, filled with information about Bart's past and whole lot of puzzles about Chao's present, turns to a night spent in Vienna's motel room. There's a degree of joyful silliness to this bond that stories about new infatuation becoming something deeper can often forget or ignore. These two joke and laugh a lot, and that goes a long way toward making this connection feel real.

That's vital, because Basilone has a big surprise in store for these two. When it arrives, we're left with degrees of uncertainty on an assortment of levels.

Here it is (as a warning for the spoiler-phobic): After a night and a day together, Bart wants to know what Vienna's deal is. She reveals that she's from the future—the year 2052, to be exact—and has come to buy some stocks, which will help pay for her mother's medical treatment when she returns to her time.

That becomes the main question here: Is Vienna really from the future (which would make this science-fiction), or does she have some mental health condition that makes her believe that's the case (which would make this something far more serious than the film's early tone suggests)? What's kind of refreshing about Basilone's approach is that it treats both options as a possibility. The answer isn't nearly as important as the way this relationship evolves, the specifics of how these characters connect, and the potential that Vienna has some serious problems forces Bart to confront his own (Again, while Vienna does become a bit deeper than some archetypical "perfect, if idiosyncratic, partner," she is, eventually and ultimately, a vessel for Bart to learn some important lessons about himself and his life).

Basilone bypasses a lot of potential issues with this material (mainly, the idea that this story could be severely downplaying and maybe even exploiting mental health problems) by simply allowing these characters and this relationship to breathe. A side effect, of course, is that Long Weekend also bypasses its more intriguing and possibly troubling ideas by retaining the mystery until the very end, but the idea of this story and, more importantly, the relationship holding it up are just engaging enough.

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