This is a reprint of the Austin Chronicle review that ran last March when the film premiered in Austin during the 1995 SXSW FIlm Festival. Movies come into existence for any variety of reasons, but it is all too rare that one finds a movie that exists simply because it must. Rhythm Thief is that kind of movie, one that cárpès the hell out of its diem. (Actually, according to the filmmakers, their diem was an 11-day shoot on a budget of $11,000. Given those numbers, let it be said that the movie lacks for nothing.) Harrison, who received a special director’s award at the 1995 Sundance festival and won the prize for best dramatic feature at the 1995 SXSW Film Festival, has crafted a film whose story and style are inextricably linked. Rhythm Thief’s clipped, edgy takes are well-suited to the disconnectedness of the film’s characters. Their grimy, low-rent world of New York City’s Lower East Side is in tune with the film’s 16mm, black-and-white, bare-bones visual look. And the film’s central character — a bootlegger who sells his contraband music tapes on the street — is in keeping with Rhythm Thief’s go-for-broke narrative strategies. At the heart of all this is a well-told story about urbanites at (spiritual) sea. The already compelling characters are further amplified by some superb performances. And the movie’s grit is matched by its humor. Toward the end (at the beach), the movie dabbles in a bit of gratuitous romanticism, which makes the story’s finale seem more elegiac than fatalistic. Never mind, though, Rhythm Thief’s pulse beats steadily at a pure 24 frames per second.
This article appears in February 16 • 1996 (Cover).
