Although I pride myself on not having much of an interest in the concept of celebrity, I am powerlessly drawn to the work of Chloë Sevigny. Her effortless style is matched by an interest in the obscure and bizarre, and I constantly find myself in awe of the roles she plays in groundbreaking films like Kids and Boys Don’t Cry.
On a random scroll of facebook the other day I stumbled across a clip from one of her more recent films, an independent work called Lying. Although I was warned by friends that the plot was dying-turtle slow and almost completely free of dialogue and events, I decided to give it a chance, for Chloë’s sake.
I found myself completely lost in the dreamy landscape of upstate New York, where complicated relationships form between five women who hardly know one another, but find themselves isolated together at a quiet country home for a weekend. The plot thickened as I began to realize Chloë Sevigny’s character, Megan, is a pathological liar. Although it has no concrete plot, and as I learned later, no script, Lying explores the awkward feeling of trying to hold a conversation with people you don’t actually know, and the complexities involved in coming to know someone better.