Zoë Eisenberg’s Chaperone is very effective both as a waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop drama and a character study of a wayward twenty-something. Though the story is told through a female lens, I found myself relating heavily to its main character, Misha (Mitzi Akaha). I don’t think I’ve ever done anything as irresponsible as what she does over the course of the film, but, as a bachelor in his early thirties, I really felt for Misha’s frustration at being judged by many around her for simply having a different path in life than others. On top of all that, it’s a gorgeous snapshot of rural Hawaii, and a showcase for an all-Asian American and Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander cast.
It’s the balance between having clear consequences for Misha’s actions and having an empathetic understanding of why she does what she does which makes this film simmer so well. What starts the plot ball rolling is Misha’s relationship with Jake (Laird Akeo), a charming 19-year-old who definitely walks the fine line between maturity and youthful idiocy, as does Misha. What Misha’s family says about her immaturity is true, but it’s partially because she’s more desperate for connection than she lets on. However, this need spirals out of control as Misha’s life becomes more like a high-school drama than a youthful indiscretion. She doesn’t let on to Jake that she’s nearing 30 when they meet, and that little white lie is the catalyst for change, whether positive or negative.
Akaha gives a very fine-tuned performance, matching Eisenberg’s sensitive direction. Both artists lend a credibility to the perspective of the film, which allows it to be very economical in terms of laying the emotional groundwork. We don’t need to know every single contour of each of Misha’s family relationships, because Akaha is letting us in on her insecurity. Misha works with her sister Kenzie (Jessica Jade Andres) at a repertory movie theater which also books live acts, but she has never moved beyond the box office, even though she sees how overworked her sister is trying to keep the place afloat and raise a family. Misha also inherited a house and a decent amount of money from her grandmother, so there is some resentment from Kenzie and their bachelor brother Vik (Kanoa Goo) about that. At least in the first half, we don’t resent Misha’s lack of ambition, partly because she is right to be annoyed at the double standard of judgment between her and Vik. As she eloquently puts it, “you know that nobody even uses the term “bachelorette” unless they’re celebrating the end of it?”
All of this is laid out in the first twenty minutes or so, which, again, is absolutely praiseworthy. However, the only real flaw in the film has to do with how well Eisenberg builds these basics: the film is about twenty minutes too long. The storytelling is so solid that any three effective scenes essentially saying the same thing could have coalesced into one scene. Especially in the second act, the film spins its wheels quite often. Again, none of these scenes are bad in and of themselves, it’s just that it could have flowed a little better, so that the climax might have had slightly more impact. The ending, while actually surprising and uncompromising on paper, feels more like an inevitability than a crushing realization because we’ve been waiting for it just a bit too long.
Apart from that pacing issue, Chaperone should be a huge calling card for Eisenberg and Akaha. With such a flawed character at its center, this story would have been easy to flub. I’m so glad it wasn’t flubbed, though, because we would have missed out on some really insightful humanist cinema which stays true to the heart of the art form: empathy. | George Napper
