About to publish his second novel and at the current peak of his career, Philip Lewis Friedman (Jason Schwartzman) is burning bridges with just about everyone in his life: his ex, his college roommate, his publisher, his colleagues, his girlfriend, no one is safe. He has become resentful toward those around him because he thinks they’re beneath him. He is selfish and unsentimental, and when people call him on it, he wonders if that’s a bad thing. Everything in the world revolves around Philip, at least in his mind. Given the film’s first scene, which sees Philip meeting his ex-girlfriend for lunch so he can brag about his recent success, it seems he has always been this way, incapable of understanding how repugnant he is, how his blatant narcissism and intense disinterest in others make him a true asshole.
Weeks before the release of his book, Philip decides not to do any press to promote it, as he doesn’t want to ingratiate himself to people he thinks so little of. Instead, he accepts an offer to retreat for the summer at the country house of Ike Zimmerman (Jonathan Pryce), his literary idol, leaving behind the city and his photographer girlfriend Ashley (Elisabeth Moss) so he can focus on the most important thing in his life: himself. Upon the summer’s conclusion, Philip is offered a job as a creative writing instructor at a nearby college, and is urged by Ike to accept the position. Over the course of the semester, Philip continues to drive away people on his own accord, unable to empathize with anyone around him, diving further and further into isolation and emotionless living.
Philip is one of two cinematic stand-ins — the other being Pryce’s Ike — for prize-winning novelist Philip Roth, a man known for his literary prowess, prickly attitude, and reclusive behavior. Throughout his career, Schwartzman has been good at playing smug, pretentious assholes, so it comes as no surprise he is a good fit for the role. He embodies the character’s egoism throughout the picture, from start to finish, with no positive or negative transformation, and that’s the chief problem with Listen Up Philip, the latest film from writer-director Alex Ross Perry.
Schwartzman’s character is the exact same person in the middle of the film as in the beginning, and he doesn’t change one bit by the time it concludes. There’s a moment toward the end of Listen Up Philip where it seems he has a chance at self-improvement, but within a minute or two that feeling fades. He makes no progress, nor does he regress in a major way; he remains the same smug, pretentious asshole throughout the movie, from start to finish. He places himself further in isolation as the movie plods along, but doesn’t seem to have any desire to change his situation. Ultimately, Philip is a one-note character with no real arc, and since Listen Up Philip is centered primarily around him, that makes it a bit of a one-note film, despite the good things it has going for it.
On the plus side, where Philip and Ike are abhorrent and lack depth, the film’s female characters swoop in and lend a human touch to a picture that would have been severely derailed without them. From Moss as Philip’s girlfriend Ashley, to Krysten Ritter as Ike’s daughter Melanie, to Joséphine de La Baume as Philip’s faculty colleague Yvette, all three women are treated poorly and tossed aside by Philip and Ike, and yet they overcome these relationship conflicts and wind up in a better place. Further, Moss and Ritter step up to the plate and give great performances in their respective roles, showing both the fragility and strength of their characters in hard times.
Additionally, Listen Up Philip has a beautifully melancholy jazz score composed by Keegan Dewitt, which adequately matches the tone of the film. Shot on 16 mm film stock, the movie has a distinct look, reminiscent of the earlier works of Whit Stillman and Woody Allen. The picture is washed out and drab, perfectly mirroring the life lived by the film’s main character. Yet, while the film is aesthetically interesting and ultimately pleasing, cinematographer Sean Price Williams has a clear fetish for ultra-tight closeups, zooming in on characters’ faces a number of times throughout the film, a jarring decision that adds nothing to the movie.
Listen Up Philip has its share of funny moments and some of Philip’s remarks are genuinely humorous even while being derisive toward other characters. But, in all, it’s difficult to truly like a film when its central character begins and ends in the exact same place with no deviations in between, especially when the story wanders the way it does.
I don’t generally trouble myself over a movie’s official plot synopsis, but the one given for Listen Up Philip caught me a bit off-guard when I read it after finishing the film. It claims the movie is “a complex, intimate, and highly idiosyncratic comedy,” and there I mostly agree, though I’d add the word “dark” before comedy for anyone expecting fits of laughter. However, the next clause in the synopsis states, “Listen Up Philip is a literary look at the triumph of reality over the human spirit.” Well, if reality is the ultimate victor in this story, I’m not really sure what reality Alex Ross Perry’s film is set in, or what reality he lives in, because at the end of the day not enough about Listen Up Philip feels honest.
