Sundance Review: ‘Listen Up Philip’ Is Hilariously Impolite

In the wake of Listen Up Philip‘s various screenings here at Sundance, I’ve read tweets and reviews comparing writer/director Alex Ross Perry’s work to that of Woody Allen, Noah Baumbach, and other maestros of abrasive cinematic comedy. That’s quite an expectation to set for such a fresh filmmaker, but he lives up to it. To whit: this movie adds not one but two characters to the ranks of filmdom’s greatest assholes.

The first is the titular protagonist, played by Jason Schwartzman. Over the course of the film, Philip cycles through the full spectrum of anger, self-obsession, callousness, dickery, cantankerousness, disagreeability, and even downright cruelty. He’s a writer stressed past his threshold by his crumbling relationship with his girlfriend Ashley (Elisabeth Moss) and the troubled release of his sophomore novel. It’s soon apparent, though, that he was pretty insufferable even before these problems.

The second asshole is Ike Zimmerman (Jonathan Pryce), who is essentially Philip with thirty years and the attendant compounded bile added on. Philip admires Ike, an Updike/Mailer/Cheever-type writer who was popular in the ’70s and ’80s before becoming a recluse. The two hit it off immediately after meeting, and Ike invites Philip to stay whenever he wants at his rural retreat. Seeking a break from his worries, Philip gladly seizes on the opportunity.

Schwartzman and Pryce are working on an unprecedented level of douchebaggery here. Both Philip and Ike are wholly unfiltered, speaking their mind no matter how rude their thoughts may be. What’s more is that they carry themselves perfectly as pompous intellectuals, their every gesture conveying disdain or mean-spirited self-satisfaction. They would be stand-up-and-leave-the-theater intolerable if their poisonous interactions with civil society weren’t so frequently hilarious, and the film would be eminently quotable if most of the quotes weren’t so impolite.

Listen Up Philip runs nearly two hours, which could have been too much of these guys to take, no matter how entertaining they can be. But the film alleviates their negativity with its secret weapon: Elisabeth Moss. The best actress on television rounds out a trifecta of great performances, playing the normal, kind, and well-adjusted foil to Philip’s darkness. Unlike Philip or Ike, who are irrevocably trapped by their inability to connect to other people, Ashley has an arc through the movie, as she learns to let go of her boyfriend. There’s a long stretch of the story that focuses on her, with Schwartzman minimally present.

There’s also a section in which Ike takes center stage, which showcases how interacting with someone so like him has shaken him out of his long complacency. The movie isn’t a triptych — Philip is the main for the majority of the runtime, while the Ashley and Ike pieces feel more like long side trips. But they have a clear purpose, which is to show how Philip’s bitter gravity warps the orbit of those around him.

The movie owes a big debt to cinematographer Sean Price Williams. Shot on 16mm, it has a soft, timeless look that befits its literary mindset. The frame favors almost intrusive closeups on faces, studying small emotions and reactions. There’s an intimacy to this technique that counterbalances the brusqueness of its characters.

Listen Up Philip is either one of the funniest dramas or bleakest comedies of the year. It makes no bones about how people like Philip and Ike rarely ever have a pleasant time of it. As successful, respected novelists, they have everything they could have ever hoped for, but they derive little satisfaction from it. The best that can be hoped for, the movie seems to suggest, is that the Ashleys of the world will be able to get over them.

Grade: A-