Katie Aselton‘s fourth film as director is begging for a spoiler. That would explain a lot but also give away too much. Luckily, the big reveal comes 20 minutes into this sensitively played yet too-obvious drama about a couple who go to the desert to regroup and look ahead to an altered future. Aselton plays Erin, whose mood at first veers with annoying abruptness between mournful and happy. Daveed Diggs is Charlie, full of smiling, even-tempered charm. If Charlie seems too good to be true, he is.
Aselton’s films include The Freebie (2010), arguably her best and a very different marriage story, and most recently Mack & Rita (2022) with Diane Keaton, a critical flop she didn’t write. She plays to her strengths and her indie roots in Magic Hour, directing herself and the other actors to natural, likable performances.
Magic Hour
The Bottom Line
Well-played but predictable.
Venue: SXSW Film Festival (Narrative Spotlight)
Cast: Daveed Diggs, Katie Aselton, Brad Garrett, Susan Sullivan, D.J. Shangela Pierce
Director: Katie Aselton
Writers: Katie Aselton, Mark Duplass
1 hour 20 minutes
Erin’s mood swings become sympathetic when we learn why she is facing a crisis, and Aselton maneuvers through the character’s many changes with grace. Diggs has an even tricker role and plays it beautifully, making us believe in Charlie’s appeal and endless patience. If anyone were perfect, it would be this guy. Charlie’s sunniness makes it that much more powerful when he and Erin argue and he lashes out that she keeps blaming him for something he never wanted to happen. Aselton and Diggs make the most of the relationship story in scenes that become more and more poignant as the film goes on. Their emotional connection keeps the film rooted in reality even when we see events that are, without question, imaginary. Someone is pushed off a cliff and gets up without a scratch.
The story Aselton has written with her husband, Mark Duplass, about loss, grief and moving on, is familiar from many other movies, though. As soon as the twist is revealed, the trajectory of the rest is easy to spot. The dialogue is deft and convincing, but the film is always struggling to rise above its clichéd plot.
That’s too bad, because so much works here. Sarah Whelden’s cinematography is dazzling. Its bright, candy-colored intensity creates a hyperreal mood in keeping with a story about what is or isn’t real, as we are led to wonder how much Erin has idealized Charlie. Wide views of the desert reflect the couple’s isolation from the rest of the world, as well as the glaring brightness of the sun.
Brad Garrett pops in and out as Erin’s old friend, who lends support and the use of his isolated house in Joshua Tree. (Arielle Ness-Cohen’s production design makes that house look inviting.) Susan Sullivan adds a jolt of energy and a bit of comedy as Erin’s mother, who tries to help in the most well-intentioned, wrong-headed, exasperating way. But the supporting characters often seem brought in only to prevent Magic Hour from becoming a two-character film.
And although it runs a brief 1 hour and 20 minutes, at times the film feels padded with close-up nature shots of flowers, as well as several montages. They include one in which Erin’s drag queen friends try to cheer her up by putting her in a drag costume and makeup. That sequence has a point to make about empathy, but it feels forced. A different scene, when Erin races a go-kart with her friends, is more effectively suspenseful and smartly edited to create tension.
Sometimes eloquent and often rocky, Magic Hour is good enough to make you wish it was much less predictable.