RUTH (MELANIE LYNSKEY) isnāt asking for much: She just wants people to not be assholes. Unfortunately, sheās surrounded by themāfrom the racist patient in the hospital where she works, to the people who cut in line at the grocery store, to the dog owner who, every day, leaves his pupās turds on her lawn. When someone breaks into Ruthās house and steals her grandmotherās silverware, something snaps.
I Donāt Feel at Home in This World Anymore is the directorial debut of actor Macon Blair, who appeared in longtime buddy Jeremy Saulnierās movies Blue Ruin and Green Room. Like Green Room, I Donāt Feel at Home was shot in Oregon, and it shares Saulnierās gritty, Americana-noir qualities. Last month, Blairās movie won the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, andāfollowing an increasingly popular distribution modelāis forgoing a theatrical release to go up on Netflix this weekend. Regardless of where you watch it, I Donāt Feel at Home is a small, marvelous story that defies easy categorization. The first passages play like an oddball, character-driven indie comedy, but as Ruth tracks down the thievesāin the process enlisting her impulsive, nunchaku-wielding neighbor Tony (Elijah Wood)āit becomes simultaneously scarier and funnier. As it progresses, I Donāt Feel at Home evolves into a taut pulp thriller about an unlikely vigilante.
The movie soars on Lynskeyās performance. Ever since Heavenly Creatures introduced her to the world, the actor has been a master of undercutting mousiness with malice. When we first meet Ruth, sheās barely keeping her head up, swigging too much beer and making inappropriate confessions to her friendās five-year-old daughter. And yet we can see the muted fire inside her, the dancing flicker of danger as she absorbs lifeās tiny injustices, one after another. Equally effective is Wood, hiding his saucer-sized eyes behind pedophile-style aviator glasses and using his wiry frame to full advantage; his rat-tailed, churchgoing Tony is both utterly ridiculous and fully believable. Together, Lynskey and Wood find the compassion in Blairās screenplay, avoiding the cynicism that could have permeated the material in the hands of less subtle performers.
Portlandās undeveloped neighborhoods, shot in golden half-light, stand in for the fictional town of Chaplain, Virginia, but this movie feels like it could take place anywhere in post-industrial America. Ruthās neighborhood holds both apple-pie suburban charm and sinister corners, where a backyard can be full of welcoming neighbors or hide a meth-fueled petty-crime syndicate (or both). Blairās exploration of American decay is the farthest thing from being heavy-handedāheās echoing crime movies from the ā70s perhaps more than heās deliberately commenting on today. But the movie recognizes the rails our lives are often confined to, and has sympathy for the upheaval and force needed to change the direction of oneās trajectory.
Ruthās own journey is one I havenāt really seen articulated on film beforeāthe discovery that apathy does not equal virtue, and that in order to be a good person, one is called upon to do more than keep quietly to oneās self. The villains, led by Marshall (Jesus Lizard singer David Yow), occasionally turn cartoony, but the story is told from Ruthās perspective, and her point of view rings true even as things get absurdly bloody.
I Donāt Feel at Home in This World Anymoreās title was inspired by a record Blair got at Mississippi Records that included an oft-recorded folk song known as both āCanāt Feel at Homeā and āThis World Is Not My Home.ā Like those old tunes, Blairās movie feels timeless and vividly currentāit sifts through blood and loss and depression, and finds hope somewhere in the mess of life.