Intro

Filmmaking is hard. I always want to appreciate the passion and labor of bringing a story to the screen. However, The Listener illustrates how even the best intentions can fall short of their goal.

A Promising Setup

The film's premise of a crisis helpline volunteer listening to callers in various stages of distress sounds like a solid foundation upon which to build a movie. That premise sweetens once you consider that Steve Buscemi directed this; Tessa Thompson stars as the crisis helpline volunteer named Beth, supported by a cast of pretty big names like Rebecca Hall, Jamie Hector, Margaret Cho, Alia Shawkat, and more like Derek Cecil, Blue Del Barrio, Ricky Velez, Casey Wilson, and Bobby Soto.

Uninspired Direction

Despite its star power and solid premise, The Listener fails to do any necessary work crucial to a contained film such as this. Buscemi's direction is nearly non-existent, so I came away with the impression that this was a movie directed by the director of photography or one of the many assistant directors. 

A Flat Script & Callers

For much of the film's 96-minute runtime, Beth walks around her house, listens to callers explain their situation, and responds in the most non-committal ways. Buscemi assumes the audience will automatically care about Beth and the calls she receives from ten minutes in until the credits, which is a huge gamble. 

The gamble that Buscemi is making can only work if the viewer can understand and relate to Beth as not only a character in a story but also as a point of comparison for their life experiences. Alessandro Camon, who you might know from The Messenger, Thank You For Smoking, Bad Lieutenant: New Orleans, or Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, delivers an uninspired script. His characterization of Beth, or lack thereof, makes it impossible to relate to her. Even worse, this extends to the callers whose plights she listens to, as they are all some form of cliche.

Tonal Confusion

One of The Listener's major stumbling blocks is its failure to achieve tonal consistency. Is it intended to seriously explore mental health struggles and the challenges of crisis hotlines? Or is it meant to be darkly satirical, perhaps even bordering on the absurd? The film flits between these two tones awkwardly. Cliche-ridden dialogue and exaggerated performances create a dissonance that undercuts the gravity of the subject matter.

Technical Shortcomings

Unfortunately, it does not end there. Another large part of where The Listener fails for me is the cinematography by Anka Malatynska. How each shot is captured is entirely uninteresting to me, with most of the film looking like it was shot entirely on a dolly, tracking Beth's movements. There are some handheld shots, but combined with the lighting of what seems to be a single lamp, there's nothing beyond a shot at the beginning of the film that caught my interest.

The phone call audio (played back on a video tape recorder by Troy Roberts) sounds too good. That's an odd complaint, but there's a specific way phone calls sound. Even with good cell phone reception, a word will get lost, or the audio will become muffled. None of that happens here. It sounds like the caller is in a sound booth reciting lines.

The sparse, melancholic score by Laura Rosenthal and Kimberly Ostroy occasionally succeeds in amplifying the emotional undercurrents but ultimately feels underdeveloped.

Likewise, the lack of background ambiance becomes more noticeable by the minute. Beth's house feels unnaturally quiet, detracting from planting the audience with a sense of realism.

Another thing that bugged me is the film's frequent cuts between Beth's reactions and establishing shots of mundane household items. These cuts feel jarring and interrupt the natural flow of the scenes. The editing in the opening scene is particularly egregious, which cuts each time something new happens, whether Beth is making tea, letting her dog out, or putting her earbuds in.

While generally unobtrusive, Beth's clothing choices and apartment decor don't reveal much about her personality, further contributing to the overall flatness of the film.

Uninspired Performances

While we're on the subject, let's discuss the cast's performances. While the cast delivers competent performances, the script gives them little opportunity to shine. Their characters are given flat dialogue and one-dimensional motivations, resulting in a collection of (pun not intended) phoned-in performances.

One of The Listener's major stumbling blocks is its failure to achieve tonal consistency. Is it intended to seriously explore mental health struggles and the challenges of crisis hotlines? Or is it meant to be darkly satirical, perhaps even bordering on the absurd? The film flits between these two tones awkwardly. Cliche-ridden dialogue and exaggerated performances create a dissonance that undercuts the gravity of the subject matter.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, The Listener is a frustrating case of wasted potential. The core idea and talented cast and crew had the makings of a gripping, profound film. Instead, the minimalist approach feels uninspired, leaving the viewer wholly disengaged. The film's slow pace, repetitive structure, and lack of emotional depth make it difficult to stay invested in Beth's story or the struggle of the callers. It plays out like a series of monotonous exchanges, failing to capture the urgency and emotional weight of crisis hotline work. The core idea of a crisis hotline drama had the potential to be both suspenseful and emotionally resonant.

On the other hand, a film that explores the psychological toll on hotline workers while offering glimpses into callers' desperate situations could powerfully explore human connection and societal struggles. The Listener starts with that potential, but the execution squanders it. Instead of a thought-provoking exploration of empathy and crisis, we get a tedious slog. For those interested in the topic, a documentary might be a more fulfilling way to gain insight into the vital work of crisis helplines.

★

The Listener will be available on limited theatrical release and video-on-demand platforms from March 29th, thanks to Vertical Entertainment.

Until next time!