December 10, 2007

No one out here seems to know how to pronounce "Schuyler". What's up with that?

When actors from a TV show I really love appear in other projects, I'm always compelled to watch, for better or worse. Thanks to my abiding love for (the late, lamented) Gilmore Girls, not to mention my enduring crush on her, I've suffered through some pretty terrible movies for the sake of the beautiful and talented Lauren Graham. On the other hand, Scott Patterson's new sitcom on the CW, Aliens in America, has turned out to be surprisingly engaging, even a bit subversive, if not in the same league as the other comedies on my current Awesome List (to wit: The Office, which breaks my heart as frequently as it cracks me up; 30 Rock, whose wicked smart and incredibly dense episodes more than fill the void left by Arrested Development; and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is just fucking funny, though its season is now sadly over).

I've always found Alexis Bledel, the youngest Gilmore Girl, to be rather modestly talented, and her roles outside the show have betrayed a lack of onscreen charisma; nonetheless, it was because of her presence that I recently watched a movie called I'm Reed Fish. It's a pretty standard indie quirkfest that also stars Jay Baruchel (of Judd Apatow's short-lived TV series Undeclared, the follow-up to his equally short-lived Freaks and Geeks, which in case you didn't know is one of the best shows ever). Baruchel, with his skinny limbs, sunken chest, pasty skin, and hipster doofus hairdo, looks like he might have been hired as a low-rent Zach Braff, but is actually a lot more likeable and a lot less douchey than the Braffster. I went into the watching experience with zero expectations, which may be why I actually found the movie kind of charming, though I'm not saying you should watch it. You could get pretty much the same experience by putting Garden State and Napoleon Dynamite in a blender, plus there's a "twist" that the screenwriter clearly thought would lift his film above the indie pack, but which merely deflates its emotional tension.

Baruchel was good as the titular character and Bledel was a dud as his fiancée, but the standout performance belonged to Schuyler Fisk as his erstwhile sweetheart, newly returned from Texas to their quirky Northern California town. The only thing I'd ever seen Fisk in was The Baby-Sitters Club (shut up), which she made as a pre-teen, so this was my first time seeing her as an adult, and she was kind of the anti-Bledel, lighting up the screen with some serious presence. Baruchels' character was supposed to be torn between his two loves, but to the viewer it didn't seem to be much of a contest, unfortunately. I'll definitely keep an eye out for Fisk in future roles.

Anyway, what I really wanted to bring your attention to, gentle (and patient) reader, is not Schuyler Fisk's acting, but her singing. I was sort of peripherally aware that she'd been putting a music career together, in a "that girl from The Baby-Sitters Club movie plays music now? That's kind of weird. Is she doing the acoustic-y singer-songwriter thing? I can't imagine that's going to be any good" way. I have a low tolerance for acoustic-y singer-songwriters as it is, with their solemnity and their introspection and their mellowtude and their acoustic-yness. An acoustic-y singer-songwriter needs to be pretty awesome to catch my ear. So I was quite surprised to be watching an indie movie with zero expectations about anything and to have Schuyler Fisk sing a song in that movie and turn out to be pretty awesome.

Like I said, I'm not recommending you rent the movie, but I am recommending you watch the scene with Schuyler singing on YouTube: http://youtube.com/watch?v=YhpuI8-Ew7g. I've watched it a bunch of times and I cry every time, not because it's a sad song but because it's a really good song, and because her voice is really lovely and pure like a church bell ringing across a wildflower meadow on a May morning, and because she smiles so sweetly when she sings. I'm a little bit in love right now.