Black Bear may as well have been called Bat Shit because that's how crazy it is. Everything worthwhile that could be said about Lawrence Michael Levine's film almost can't be discussed for fear of spoiling any aspect of what lies beyond the title screen, but I'll do my best. For starters, Black Bear is seemingly about the creative process with the question of, "how far is too far?" looming over every facet. Levine is an actor, director, and writer himself as well as being married to fellow multi-hyphenate Sophia Takal which undoubtedly inspired certain details of the film if not having been based outright on actual conversations the couple has had. Add to the mix Aubrey Plaza who not only takes the lead role here, but the role of producer as her relationship with writer/director Jeff Baena (Life After Beth, The Little Hours) no doubt assisted in her understanding of if not being completely empathetic to the material and her character of Allison. What is then immediately fascinating about Black Bear is that despite the large possibility of self-indulgence or - as Sarah Gadon's Blair might say, "the large possibility of solipsism" - Black Bear somehow manages to steer clear of its own self-satisfaction by essentially becoming something of a satire not necessarily of the people, but more of the circumstances they've driven themselves to in pursuit of this creative endeavor they've put so much stock in. What's curious is that said creative endeavors and the process such require in order to fully produce them are, by virtue of the fact they're existence is only justified by an individual's existential need create them, essentially exercises in some form of narcissism themselves. Does that then make Black Bear Levine's attempt to try and suss out his own level of self-awareness and assure those in the audience that no matter the level of commitment and passion poured into his projects that at the end of the day he's blatantly aware his work could have as little an impact as it could a large one? It kind of feels that way as everything about Levine's third narrative feature would seemingly mark it as your standard indie hipster typically found at Sundance, but by nature of the exploration taking place Black Bear more intends to dissect what it means to exist as someone that constantly tries to subvert the mainstream while still appealing to it in real-life situations. How do we best embody and represent our beliefs through our actions? Why do we always want what we don't have? How far is too far? Levine asks a lot of questions (many more than he answers) with Black Bear and though the ultimate theme, intention, and even point of the film isn't all that clear it still makes for a fascinating experiment in introspection nonetheless.
