PREMIERE'S REVIEW (posted 10/3/08)

In Lance Hammer's Ballast, the director takes a page from the Terrence Malick playbook and constructs a poetic narrative out of bleak landscapes and majestic drama. Both a love letter to the Mississippi Delta and an expression of its insular qualities, Ballast follows the despondent lives of a broken family. It begins with a tragedy and ends with some semblance of hope. In its early scenes, Lawrence (Micheal J. Smith Sr.), a soft-spoken, awkwardly hefty African-American man, silently broods after discovering the dead body of his suicidal twin. Lawrence's own botched suicide attempt shortly afterward sets the tone of extreme despair which continues throughout the film, but Hammer actually manages to inject the downbeat environment with a diverse range of feelings. The result is an exhilarating narrative.

In the wake of his brother's death, Lawrence gets some company: His brother's dysfunctional ex-wife Marlee (Tarra Riggs) and her rebellious twelve-year-old James (JimMyron Ross) show up on the sibling's expansive farmland in the hopes of starting life anew. It's not an easy process, and James' attraction to a criminal livelihood doesn't help. Before long, Lawrence overcomes his despondence and steps up to become a father figure, but the possibility of a romance blossoming between him and Marlee seems constantly in flux.

With no soundtrack and long stretches of time where evocative visuals supplant dialogue, Ballast often appears dedicated to developing a mood rather than telling a story of repressed minorities. Nevertheless, it's a mercifully unstylized experience, one dedicated to the progress made by each of the three main characters in developing a sense of personal accountability. This damaged family has little worth living for, and Hammer subtly develops this point through the emptiness of the nature surrounding them.

Hammer's style has been compared to a diverse range of contemporary European filmmakers, particularly the Dardenne brothers, but there's something distinctly American about the way he envisions the persistent clash of dreams and reality. The family's attempts to regain financial stability by reopening their late relative's convenience store don't offer an escape strategy; in a Hollywood version of this story, it would serve as the conclusion. Instead, it marks the beginning of new responsibilities.

Ballast keep such tight focus on its triangle of characters that it remains a very small film. Hammer makes no grandiose statements and steers clear of didacticism. It's not exclusively a movie about black poverty; it's a movie about impoverished black people learning to deal with their problems. The only race that's relevant to the scenario is the emotional rat race emanating from the character dynamic. As far as heroes go, Lawrence is our man. He puts Marlee in her place, explaining why things didn't work out between her and his brother. "You never loved him," he says. "You only wanted what he could offer you." And he proceeds to offer her the one thing she needs most: companionship.

— Eric Kohn