Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		4.0
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.0
Overall		3.0

Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie Review

Flirting with Audio

Reviewed by Casey Broadwater January 29, 2013

We all know or have known that girl—the one seemingly unaware of her own powerful charisma. The effortlessly beautiful one, who draws men—and women too—into topsy-turvy orbit around her. Who is perhaps unintentionally manipulative in her flirting. Who seems into you but is frustratingly unobtainable. Who is easy to love and easier still to resent when she inevitably breaks your heart. That girl is at the narrative center of Nobody Walks, a quiet—some might say mumblecore—indie infidelity drama from director Ry Russo-Young (You Won't Miss Me) and her co-writer, Girls and Tiny Furniture auteur Lena Dunham. As you might expect from a project with Dunham's name attached, the film is all about the intersection of sex and what we might call the young urban professional woman's experience. The story is slight, meandering through a few days in the lives of several intertwined characters, but I don't think this is a bad thing. The film's subtleties are also its strengths—the calm, almost un-dramatic way it observes male/female interactions, the delicacy of its performances, even the low-key unusualness of its premise.

Nobody Walks joins Brian De Palma’s Blow Out as one of the few films about cinematic sound design, an art that—when it’s successful —often goes under-appreciated or entirely unnoticed. But audio gives life to what’s onscreen, bringing out details in the picture through aural textures. The hum of distant traffic. Wind blowing through trees. Dripping water. The light rustle of a hand moved through hair. It’s sensory, and like anything sensory, it has the capacity to become sensual. That’s certainly the case here.

When we meet twenty-three-year-old New York artist Martine (Olivia Thirlby)—that girl—she’s just exited the LAX airport and is walking to the parking garage with a hunky guy she’s just met. He makes a pass at her, but Martine turns him down with a patient, “Look, I had a great time sitting next to you on the plane, but...” We realize that she’s led him on, and that all she really wanted was a ride. He’s gentlemanly enough to drop her off at her destination, a sleek house in hilly Silver Lake, home to thirty-something sound designer Peter (John Krasinski), his psychologist wife Julie (Rosemary DeWitt), and his two step-kids, sixteen-year-old would-be poetess Kolt (India Ennenga) and her kid brother. Martine has recently completed a black and white, pretentiously Buñuel-esque short film about scorpions and ants—that’s going to be looped at her first solo photography exhibition— and Peter has offered to do the audio work pro-bono for her since she’s a friend of one of Julie’s old college pals.

As they work together—wearing headphones, both wrapped up in the miniature world of sound they’re creating—Peter falls inexorably for the pixie- haired, camera-toting ingenue. “I find you incredibly charming, and intelligent, and beautiful,” he tells her. “I respect what you do, and it makes me excited about what I do.” Martine seems to harbor at least some reciprocal feelings towards him—enough for a passionate quickie on his editing table—but then again, she also appears to have a bit of a thing for Peter’s blond young assistant, David (Rhys Wakefield), whose attentions the jealous Kolt is simultaneously seeking.

Forget love triangle, the film is something of a love hexagon, with many of the main characters somehow caught up in multiple romantic/sexual/predatory scenarios. While Kolt puppy-loves on the unsuspecting David, she has a fall-back boyfriend in her nerdy school pal Avi (Sam Lerner), and is also being hit on by her pervy, much-older Italian tutor. Julie has her own problems, including a rockstar ex-husband (Dylan McDermott) she may still have slight feelings for, and a pushy screenwriter patient who’s all too eager to tell her about his vivid sex dreams...which involve her. She also notices Peter’s “little crush on our houseguest,” and—admitting that she’s kind of attracted to Martine as well—requests only that he not embarrass her. Of course, the situation is not so simple. “Marriage is complicated,” Peter says to Martine, underlining one of the film’s key themes—how our feelings are layered and complex and occasionally contradictory.

If my synopsis makes it sound like the film has way too much going on, that’s partly true—there are perhaps one or two too many characters —but Nobody Walks never feels cluttered. Almost the opposite, in fact. This is a slim, slight drama, not very reliant on plot and told almost entirely through small looks and intimate moments and offhand conversations. It’s hazy with a sense of suburban Hollywood ennui, all sunshine and sadness by the pool, and it’s quietly perceptive about the ways that men and women—and women and women—treat one another. It particularly toys with the idea of romantic expectations. How attraction can be used disingenuously. How obsession can burrow into our brains. How our inner fantasies and the day-in-day-out reality of our lives collide, leading to a cognitive dissonance between what we want and knowing how it will affect our other relationships if we get it.

The dimensional performances of the cast keep the film from becoming too precious. Making the slow transition away from The Office, John Krasinski hasn’t quite had the theatrical role yet that he deserves—he’s got some serious dramatic chops when called for—but this one gets him closer. His Peter is a good guy who leaps before he looks, and Rosemarie DeWitt is ideal as his wife, accommodating but increasingly wary of the new female presence in their home. Which brings us to Olivia Thirlby, who has the most challenging part in the film; she has to be that girl, balancing out the desirable and despicable aspects of her character. She’s privileged and bitchy, naive and irresponsible, but we can’t help feeling what Peter feels, from his woozy infatuation to the pangs of inevitable heartache.

Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

Instead of going the digital route, like so many low-budget filmmakers these days, director Ry Russo-Young and cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt (Meek's Cutoff) opted to shoot Nobody Walks on 16mm, giving the image a warm filmic look. Of course, 16mm is effectively half of the analog resolution of 35mm—with more pronounced grain—so clarity does take a bit of a hit, comparatively. That said, for a movie shot in this particular negative size, Nobody Walks is wonderfully resolved, particularly on Blu-ray, with a 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer from Magnolia Home Entertainment that seems true to both source and intent. Grain is untouched by digital noise reduction, and there's no over-obvious edge enhancement or other blatant filtering here. The picture holds up on its own, with strong detail in closeups—for 16mm—and a natural appearance. Color has been lightly graded to add warmth to the highlights and some pop in saturation and contrast, but the film still looks very realistic and unstylized. I did spot a few blink-and-you'll-miss-em white specks on the print, but no compression or encode issues whatsoever. Oh, and Martine's black and white scorpion- and-ant-themed film-within-a-film looks great too.

Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

For a film concerned with sound design, you'd hope Nobody Walks delivers in the audio department, and it does, with an excellent lossless DTS- HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track. First and foremost, this is a quiet domestic drama, so the focus is primarily on the dialogue, which is always cleanly recorded and balanced flawlessly in the mix. This is complemented by a backdrop of low-level ambience in the rear channels—party noise, outdoor sounds, etc.—and an unobtrusive score by Brooklyn band Fall On Your Sword, which has previously provided music for Another Earth and Lola Versus. Where the track gets fun, though, is Peter and Martine's experiments in foley audio, recording freeway noise, various insect clicks and clatters, water from a shower head, breathing, and synthesizer gurgles and swoops. The sounds are often spread throughout all 5.1 channels, even utilizing significant bass in certain scenes, and the mix definitely imparts the sense of audio intimacy that's so crucial to the film. The disc includes optional, easy-to-read English SDH and Spanish subtitles.

Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Deleted Scene (HD, 1:32): Glad they cut this one. A really poorly acted scene with Kolt and her friends.
• Scorpio (HD, 5:13): Here you can watch Martine's short film in its entirety.
• Interview with Director Ry Russo-Young (HD, 22:24): A lengthy interview with the film's director, who discusses the characters, writing the film with Lena Dunham, and shooting in Los Angeles.
• Interview with Olivia Thirlby (HD, 11:47): Thirlby describes her character, the intimacy of sound, and what it was like working with John Krazinsky.
• AXS TV: A Look at Nobody Walks (HD, 5:00): Your usual promo, with clips from the film and snippets of the above interviews.
• Theatrical Trailer (HD, 2:08)
• Also from Magnolia Home Entertainment (HD, 8:22)

Nobody Walks Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

There's nothing brash or loud or especially dramatic about Nobody Walks, a quiet indie drama about fidelity, the complexity of emotions, and the intimacy of sound. It's the sort of film many would pass over without a thought if they saw it on a shelf or in their Netflix recommendations, but it's worth your time if you're looking for something subtle and perceptive. It's arguable whether Magnolia's Blu-ray release is purchase-worthy—I'm not sure the film merits repeat viewings—but those who are interested will find a strong high definition transfer, a solid audio track, and a few informative extras. I'd say rental on this one.