Band Aid

A wise woman once said, “Love is a battlefield.” And sometimes the cause is no nobler than determining whose turn it is to do the dishes. Anyone who has attempted co-habitation knows full well that it’s never about the dishes, or the dirty socks on the floor; these points of conflict are merely manifestations of much deeper issues. And so it goes for Band Aid’s longtime couple Anna (Lister-Jones, Lola Versus) and Ben (Pally, Night Owls), whose relationship has hit a rough patch after a series of failures (or, ya know, what some of us call life).

These two quarrel so much that their fights start to take on a rehearsed quality, like an act or a piece of performance art. The arguing develops a cadence, a sing-songy undertone. So much so that they decide to start a band – enlisting creepy neighbor Dave (Armisen, doing a typical Armisen) to play drums ­– and the fights become actual songs (catchy indie tunes with titles like “I Don’t Wanna Fuck You” and “Love Is Lying” that sound a bit like Moldy Peaches’ “Anyone Else but You” drained of all its optimism). Lister-Jones not only stars in the film, she also wrote, directed, and produced it, and she wrote most of the songs, too. (But she’s no stranger to ambitious projects: In 2004, she wrote and performed a one-woman, 10-character show in NYC.)

Band Aid accurately depicts the integration of sweetness and trauma that often comes with romantic attachments (à la season 2 of Love). Anna and Ben have been together long enough to know how to target the tenderest flesh for sinking the blade. But Ben is worn down, and he carries the burden in his hunched posture and often cradles or grips his own face during arguments. Anna is a bit more uptight, often taking on the air of a bird with ruffled feathers. They both have their faults, but Ben’s teeth are sharper. The fights are raw and real.

Where the film really falters is late in the narrative when Ben’s mother (Essman) presents a preachy, binary Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus-type speech that oversimplifies the conflict and offers a hurried, half-ass solution. (To be fair, it’s pretty self-aware in that the characters acknowledge its inherent exclusionary faults.) Nevertheless, the segment distracts from the fresh and quirky method Anna and Ben have already developed for dealing with their problems. The band acts as a form of catharsis that, in this instance, is far more effective than therapy. Of course, it’s no miracle cure; it’s merely a Band Aid covering a battle wound.