Fun
Frisky
Nostalgic
Intense
Adventurous
Choked Up
Curious
Romantic
Weird
Before he made many a confused viewer hit rewind while streaming the ultra immersive television series Mr. Robot, Sam Esmail crafted the engrossing indie dramatic film Comet.
Written and directed by Esmail, Comet follows the on-again/off-again six-year relationship between Emmy Rossum’s Kimberly, a sharp-witted character who lives in the now, and Justin Long’s Dell, a sometimes rambling pessimist who lives in the “five minutes from now.” If you’re thinking the plot seems a bit prosaic for Esmail’s directorial debut, I should mention that their tale is told through a serious of nonlinear flashbacks. Oh, and as a title card explains in the beginning of the film, the story takes place a “few parallel universes over.”
Esmail’s gotta Esmail, ya know?
What makes Comet stand out from other chatty indie offerings is the unassailable chemistry between Rossum and Long and the immaculate dialogue written for them by Esmail. When we’re introduced to Dell, he is a lot to take in. But in the nimble hands of Justin Long and anchored by the inherent charm of Rossum, you can’t help but rooting for something that resembles happiness for the mismatched couple. Even though Comet is essentially an hour and a half banter session between the two, my affection for the characters never waned. I’d be happy to watch Justin Long and Emmy Rossum fall in and out of love once a year for the rest of my life. (It’s also probably worth mentioning that Esmail and Rossum are dating IRL.)
Depending on your threshold for repartee, you could potentially find the film to be overwritten. If you’ve ever said, “C’mon! Nobody talks like that!” while watching a movie or the first season of Dawson’s Creek, Comet won’t be your particular flavor of jam. Dialogue like “The New Yorker who opines the inferiorities of Los Angeles is bursting with originality” is such a well-crafted line that it trends closer to “what I fantasized about saying five hours later” than spontaneous retort, but I don’t care. When it comes to dialogue, my flag is firmly entrenched in the more ambitious the better camp.
While writers will appreciate the script, directors will enjoy the vibrant visual aesthetic of Comet. The film has the look and feel of what a movie would look like in my dreams, but only if my subconscious had a master’s degree in cinematography. The romantic element of the film is a lot to unravel, and its ambiguity leads to an “eye of the beholder” situation. Where one person may see hope another could recognize despair, kinda like a romantic Rorschach test. But a far less ambiguous point is how Comet relishes in the small, everyday moments of a relationship. As anyone who’s ever attempted to mend a broken heart over the mellifluous melancholy of Roxette’s “It Must Have Been Love” will tell you, the small details become the moments you obsess about when viewed through the prism of a breakup. You don’t dwell on the macro; you long for the day to day. Comet pulls the Band-Aid off and shines the brightest of lights on that irrational elixir known as love.
It’s rare to watch a film that’s so comfortably voracious in its own uniqueness. Comet’s delightfully, almost defiantly, distinct as it continuously zigs where other films would have zagged. It demands your undivided attention through vibrant visuals, sparkling dialogue, and aspirational storytelling, while at the same time, reminding us to savor those fleeting moments of genuine happiness.
