Chris Terrio is advertised as a protégé of the fabulously accomplished Merchant-Ivory movie team. Yet his first effort as a director, “Heights,” is a multilayered story of intertwined New Yorkers whose little secrets, self-deceptions and lies bring to mind another legendary filmmaker: Robert Altman.
It will be flattering, and deservedly so, for Terrio to enjoy the praise of comparison to any of those greats. “Heights” is an edgy, unsettling view of Manhattan’s artsy community, so blithely self-absorbed.
The movie opens with a delightful little trick, signaling misdirection and multiple unreliable narrators to come. Stunningly pretty photographer Isabel (Elizabeth Banks) is about to marry model-worthy boyfriend Jonathan (James Marsden). They rush through a morning, being smart and sweet with each other in a way that makes us all want to try Manhattan for a while.
Isabel jokes that she’s so tense she could use a smoke; Jonathan says he’s sure there are none in the apartment since they both quit. They kiss, and she leaves.
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Terrio’s camera lingers on Jonathan, at the kitchen stove; we watch as fascinated voyeurs while he casually reaches above his head and pulls a pack of cigarettes from a high shelf, lighting one with a look that shouts, “Every man for himself.” Ah, we settle in; so this is how much these smug characters think they know themselves, and how little they may know each other.
“Heights” unfolds throughout the ensuing day. Isabel’s old boyfriend (Matthew Davis) shows up to offer her an exciting journalism assignment, which just by chance would delay her wedding and throw the exes together for three weeks. A British magazine writer is profiling a Mapplethorpe-like photographer and wants to interview his hot gay models, who just by chance include Isabel’s fiancé. Isabel’s mother, played by Glenn Close with her usual riveting professionalism, is a world-famous actress trolling for young male conquests. Her latest object of desire is a handsome actor from Isabel’s building, who just by chance keeps gazing misty-eyed at Isabel’s fiancé.
It may seem an insular Greenwich Village world we’ve dropped into, where everyone is sexually ambiguous, at least slightly devious and consistently melodramatic. But it’s a world that exists, and Terrio explores it like an anthropologist, rolling his cameras along the fine line between reckless disregard and harsh judgment. He’s working from a rewritten stage play by Amy Fox, and he takes advantage of New York’s neighborhoods to bring the script out of the stage box.
Close again gives the kind of performance that makes you think she should be in every movie ever made. Banks is a welcome new sight; much of her intriguing force comes from her beauty, but she has sharp eyes, and directors will do well to consider her for big parts. High-powered cameos are dropped in nonchalantly, including Isabella Rossellini as a magazine editor and George Segal as a rabbi.
“Heights” is far from a perfect movie, but as a hint of Terrio’s talent, it’s an eminently watchable effort.
Staff writer Michael Booth can be reached at 303-820-1686 or mbooth@denverpost.com.
“Heights”
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R for adult situations, sexual situations and profanity|1 hour, 36 minutes|DRAMA| Directed by Chris Terrio; written by Terrio and Amy Fox from the play by Fox; starring Glenn Close, Elizabeth Banks, James Marsden and Jesse Bradford|Opens today at the Mayan Theatre.
