Goodbye Solo, the third feature from Ramin Bahrani, the 34-year-old, American-born writer-director of Iranian extraction who was recently inducted by A. O. Scott into the "neo-neo-realism" hall of fame, represents a major leap forward for a filmmaker who wasn't in a bad place to begin with. Shot in Bahrani's home town of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, it's one of those rare movies that is hard to discuss, in terms of the story and characters, without making it sound simpler--and more pat--than it is. The title character, Solo (played by Souléymane Sy Savané) is a Sengalese immigrant who's driving a cab while working at fulfilling his dream to become a flight attendant; optimistic and high-spirited, he meets his match in the form of William (Red West), a sturdy-looking old man and the demeanor and expression of someone who once loaned Death twenty bucks and has decided to go ask for his money back. William regularly employs Solo to drive him to the movies, a pilgrimage he seems to be making so he'll have an excuse to talk to the kid who mans the ticket station; one night, he tells Solo that he'd like to schedule an appointment at some future date for Solo to chauffeur him out to a nearby nature spot--a mountain called Blowing Rock, where the wind blows up towards heaven--and leave him there. There's a good tip in it for him.
Part of what sets Bahrani-- who co-wrote Goodbye Solo and his previous film, Chop Shop, with Bahareh Azimi--apart from the run of Hollywood directors is how resistant he is to reducing his characters to pieces in a machine that runs on formula. Having gotten Solo's attention, William finds himself unable to get rid of him. The cabbie, who already has a full plate studying for his flight attendant exam while juggling the demands of a lover (Carmen Leyva) who'd rather he stay grounded and close at hand and the woman's tiny daughter, Alex (Diana Franco Galindo), stays in William's face, calling him "big dog" and trying to show him a good enough time that he'll snap out of his suicidal fixation. He also makes a stab at getting to the bottom of whatever has turned William against life, which is a dry run: Solo does learn a bit more about his favorite passenger, but if Goodbye Solo is packing anything that be given so banal a lable as a "point", it's simply that the forces that drive people can't be summed up in the space of a ninety-minute movie, and that someone who's made up his mind to recede and withdraw, and who has his own damn reasons for it, can't be easily persuaded to change course by all the free beers and childlike smiles in the world.
What sets Bahrani apart from some of the other directors in Scott's neo-neo-realist pantheon, such as Lance Hammer (Ballast) and Kelly Reichardt (Wendy and Lucy, Old Joy), is that he can put miserable people on the screen and generate something from their presence that's richer and more complicated than mere pathos or the warm feeling some moviegoers get from feeling sorry for poor people. And as he demonstrated with his nonprofessional leads in both Man Push Cart and Chop Shop, he's also different from some of his alleged peers in that he knows how to get non-actors to behave expressively and to hold the screen, instead of filling a movie with nonprofessionals and inviting the audience to admire how authentically uninteresting they are. In an interview with the director at SpoutBlog, Noralli Ryan Fores described a moment during filming when Galindo pulled Bahrani aside "to ask why it was that [Solo's] character at this moment seemed so sad.
'I don’t know; why do you think he is so sad?' Bahrani asked." That kind of intelligent openness to the mystery of what people are about suffuses the picture. You can taste it even in Michael Simmonds's cinematography, which makes Winston-Salem seem like a place so alive that it seems likely that every bit player would have a story worth telling.
The movie's web site describes Souléymane Sy Savané as a "former flight attendant, high-fashion runway model and African televison star." I don't know what he got up to on African TV, but Savané's performance in this, his first movie, is altogether remarkable. It's earned comparisons to Sally Hawkins's work in Mike Leigh's Happy-Go-Lucky, and it's a similar kind of high-wire feat, in that you may be aware of how easily Solo's cheerful determination to insert himself into other people's lives, whether they want him to or not, because he thinks he can get them to share his affable worldview (and then everything will be all right) could easily make him one irritating son of a bitch. Solo doesn't have as secure a support network or financial status as Happy-Go-Lucky's Poppy, and there are moments when life wipes the smile off Solo's face and leaves him winded. Even then, he never senses what's clear to the audience, which is that his indefatigable good cheer and expansive nature are every bit as mysterious as William's determination to pull defeat out of the jaws of acceptance and possibility--or, as William might see it, to go out on his own terms.
As William, Red West has the most well-worn face, in terms of its exposure to the camera, of anyone who's been in a Bahrani movie to date. The 72-year-old West is best known as a member of the Memphis Mafia, the group of old pals and bodyguards that settled around Elvis Presley. You can catch glimpses of him in Elvis on Tour and Elvis: That's the Way It Is, but long before that, he had broken into movies and TV as a stunt man, with help from actor and Friend of Elvis Nick Adams, who hired West to work on his TV series The Rebel. That eventually led to scads of acting jobs, mostly in small roles, in such movies as Walking Tall and Framed and a shitload of TV. More recently, he appeared in Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers, Francis Ford Coppola's The Rainmaker, Robert Altman's Cookie's Fortune, and Ira Sachs's 40 Shades of Blue, though his most prominent role in a film may have been in the 1989 bad-laugh classic Road House. He's a hard-working pro, and in Goodbye Solo, he looks like an inexplicably magnetic old man who Bahrani lured over from standing in line at the DMV. Nothing in West's catalog of eighty-something movie and TV appearances would give you much reason to think that he could pull off what's asked of him here. William turns out to have a greater tolerance for Solo's company than you might have guessed, and he also turns out to be capable of going from ornery to scary when he feels that Solo's crossed the line. Then the moment passes, and you can see that William has one more trespass to regret, and that it'll be bothering him long after Solo has shrugged it off, which happens pretty much instantaneously. West never overplays his hand, and you can't take your eyes off him. The next time he runs into Elvis, who famously fired him and banished him from his sight a year before the King's death, West can delight his old pard with the news that, of the two of them, he was the one who wound up getting the breakthrough movie role.
