Nothing is black and white in Sean Baker’s hectic story of transgender working girls in LA
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Tangerine has finally reached local screens. Winner of top prizes at the Karlovy Vary, Mar del Plata, Palm Springs and Rio de Janeiro film festivals, the new outing by the director of Starlet (2012) is nothing short of a notable technical/aesthetic achievement as it was shot on the tiniest of budgets using iPhones for cameras and anamorphic adapters to create a textured, very tangible cinematic feel. Moreover, almost all scenes were shot with nothing but available light to achieve a look of gritty realism.
As expected, the nervous, hectic handheld camerawork pays off all the more taking into account how small iPhones are, hence how inconspicuous they must have been at the time of shooting in environments with lots of passers-by who sometimes seem unaware that a film is being shot. Plus there’s a musical score that mashes up classical pieces with disco, hip-hop, techno, electronic, Armenian music, ambient — you name it. And yes, it all sounds great together. Like a travesty opera, in the best of senses.
But what’s even far more vital is that this unique, spellbinding character study of two black transgender prostitutes who work the blocks up and down Santa Monica casts an emphatically humanistic, never condescending gaze while not sugarcoating the dark side of the local universe of sex workers and drug culture. This buddy-movie — or girlfriend movie, to be more precise — is anchored on the meaning of the bonds (or lack thereof) established by the protagonists, on their most obvious and meaningful illusions and yearnings — namely being found and loved for who they are — and on their strength to always put up a fight and then move on, come what may.
Directed, co-written, shot, edited and produced by Sean Baker, Tangerine is reminiscent of the work of other US indie auteurs such as John Waters in its exultant outrageousness, of Jonathan Caouette in its sense of creative freedom (remember Tarnation, which was made with practically no more than US$250 and an iMac?), and of the early works of Hong Kong filmmaker Wong Kar-wai (Chungking Express and Fallen Angels mostly) in its stylish camerawork, vibrant cinematography and very, very brisk editing. And yet it’s not a combination of any of the above. Tangerine, like Starlet before it, stands very well on its own feet.
But in Starlet, Baker cared for a more intimate story narrated in quite a relaxed, hushed manner, that of an unlikely friendship between a young and gorgeous wannabe porn star and an eighty-something woman with tragic losses in her past. In stark contrast, Tangerine is an energetic and sometimes nerve-racking comedy of sorts, and there’s nothing hushed about it. And even for a comedy, there’s also poignancy and sadness.
In both movies, the backdrop of LA’s low-end drug and sex industry is somewhat similar and also in both cases the dramatic focus is on the characters’ inner loneliness and their search for real company. In a sense, they long to transcend themselves, even if they don’t know it. After all, solitude comes in a variety of shapes and colours.
The story goes pretty much like this: it’s Christmas Eve and Sin-Dee Rella (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) has just been released from prison after 28 days. Right away, she meets her best friend, Alexandra (Mya Taylor), who happens to mention that Sin-Dee’s pimp and boyfriend, Chester, has been sleeping with a white woman while she was in jail. Even worse, a woman with “a vagina and everything,” says Alexandra. Sin-Dee Rella (who’s no Cinderella, in fact) is enraged beyond belief and sets out to find the woman who’s dared to touch her man.
Alexandra would rather not accompany her out-of-control friend and walks up and down Santa Monica handing out flyers for her singing appearance at a two-bit club that very same night. The other trannies say they’d show up for sure, but who knows? Nevertheless she strives to drum up an audience. Meanwhile, there’s a parallel subplot involving Razmik (Karren Karagulian), an Armenian cab driver who picks up random fares and in so doing we get a glimpse of other people’s lives. But that’s only incidental, since Razmik’s story is also connected with those of Alexandra and other working girls. And it opens up a story of immigration and discrimination as well.
Kitana Kiki Rodriguez is simply superb, going all over the place like a shrew on meth, pretending she’s a tough cookie, and yet deep down deluding herself into thinking that Chester actually loves her as she wants and needs to be loved. She’s a character that elicits contradictory reactions from viewers: at times you just want her to shut up for good, never to see her again … and in the next scene you realize how fragile she can also be and that’s when you feel like having her around for a bit longer.
Mya Taylor also delivers an impressive performance, although she goes for a more restrained, controlled approach as her character is never overwhelmed by feelings, let alone by those caused by men who abandon women. She’s more of a loner, if you will, who still believes she’ll have her big break as a singer sometime. So she bides her time.
Even considering the comedic mould which escalates to strict screwball in the grand finale at Donut Time (of all places!), you don’t have the lightweight stuff that classical screwball comedy is made of. Here, you get reality once again, and for better or worse, reality is all these characters have. Which, if seen from the right angle, is not that bad at all. See, nothing is either black or white in Tangerine. It’s more of a matter of beautifully assorted colours.
Production notes
Tangerine (US, 2015). Directed by Sean Baker. Written by Sean Baker, Chris Bergoch. With Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, Mya Taylor, Karren Karagulian, Mickey O’Hagan, Alla Tumanian, James Ransone, Luiza Nersisyan, Arsen Grigoryan, Ian Edwards, Shih-Ching Tsou. Cinematography: Radium Cheung, Sean Baker. Editing: Sean Baker. Running time: 87 minutes.
