As I exited the press screening of The Hottest State, the attending publicist’s rep asked me what I thought of the movie. I believe that my exact words were: “Well, I liked it quite a bit. But I think I’ll probably be about one of only twelve or so people who will.”

First, let me tell you why you’re likely to hate this movie. Then I’ll tell you what I liked about it.

To start with this, this is the kind of highly-personal film that critics like to say was made for “an audience of one.” Critics employ this description, you see, when they want to make it clear that “highly personal” equates to “self-indulgent” and therefore “lousy.” (Why this standard tends to only get applied to films, I’m not certain. Surely, Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself is one of the most self-indulgent works of art ever conceived; yet it’s widely regarded as a classic of the poetic form—even though I personally loathe it.)

The story of The Hottest State is based on a novel of the same name by actor Ethan Hawke. The novel, we shall note, is a semi-autobiographical account of a twenty-something struggling actor’s love and loss in New York City. The film is also directed by Hawke. And he costars.

So, yeah. The film is highly personal. It’s meandering and repetitive, and you get the feeling that director knows these characters a little too well—so well that he’s lost all perspective on what we, the audience, need to know about them. Sometimes he shows us too much. Sometimes he shows us too little. In any event, he seems to take far too long to wind up the rather predictable conclusion, and even if you’re one of Hawke’s die-hard fans, you might find your feet edging toward the end of the aisle even though your butt remains doggedly in your seat.

So why did I like it?

First, Mark Webber and Catalina Sandino Moreno, in the lead roles, are very engaging young actors. Both William and Sarah, the characters they portray, are pretty irritating and self-absorbed; but who isn’t, at that age, particularly when there’s cause enough to be that way? And Webber and Moreno bring them to life in a way that’s convincing enough to remind us either of ourselves or of people we once knew pretty well. And one suspects that’s a big part of Hawke’s point with the film.

Second, I rather enjoyed the subtle, if self-conscious, ways in which Hawke used the camera in the movie—including off-screen dialogue that makes us wonder if we’re following the wrong characters, deliberately artificial lighting employed while William and Sarah take a night-time stroll along the city’s waterway, and conveniently placed mirrors that let us see character reactions without the need for the convention of reverse-angle cuts.

Third, I enjoyed a lot of the supporting performances, which weren’t stocked with high-profile star-buddy cameos, but rather with solid veteran character actors like Laura Linney, Frank Whaley, and Sonia Braga.

Finally, I liked The Hottest State (in spite of its title) because it’s the first time that I’ve seen Hawke used in a really effective way. The heart of the film, it seems to me, is the point at which William journeys back to Texas on a cold winter day to visit his father—played in this scene, and in earlier flashbacks, by Hawke himself. A lot of the film prior to that point really does seem entirely too indulgent; but frankly, the Texas scene would have little depth without the falderal that goes before it.

Ethan Hawke has always been an actor of great promise, and for my money, the five or so Texas minutes here are the best stuff that Hawke has ever done—and that includes that magical 120 seconds or so with Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society.

So there you have it. If any of the stuff I like in this film sounds intriguing to you, you might have a shot at enjoying this tell-all confessional / personal catharsis.

And if none of it sounds appealing—don’t worry. Feel free to stay away. I doubt that Hawke is the least bit concerned. After all, it’s his film, and he’s the one who has to be happy with it.

The Hottest State is rated R for “sexual content and language.” Yes, it’s there. You have been warned. It’s a fairly light R, though—but by no means should you bring the teens with you. This film has little or no meaning for anyone under the age of, say, twenty-five.

Courtesy of a local publicist, Greg attended a press screening of The Hottest State.