Flipside (2024) Movie Drinking Game
Down a Shot: each time a famous face pops up onscreen- Be it the late David Bowie in archival footage, Judd Apatow who is a featured talking head and also serves as a producer, or glimpses of Seth Rogen and Adam Sandler goofing around on the set of Funny People in the early 2000s (Wilcha filmed the bloopers reel for the same).
Down a Shot: every time this documentary reminds you that you’re old (looking at you, Gen X and baby boomers)
Down a Shot: each time Uncle Floyd bursts into song
Down a Shot: each time the late Herman Leonard flashes his inviting smile at the camera
Documentary filmmaker at heart but ad man by trade, a burnt-out Chris Wilcha plays hooky from a work assignment and absconds to New Jersey before his morality can erode further, and ends up falling down a rabbit hole in pursuit of answers to his many questions- ranging from whether a creative can survive on passion alone, to whether trading in one’s creativity for remuneration or suppressing it altogether to work a soul-crushing job to survive is actually worth it? His journey takes him to the titular record store run by Dan Dondiego in an almost gentrified suburbia (where Wilcha himself was once an employee in his youth before corporate America eventually sucked him in, too), as well as back to his childhood home where he rummages through dream projects that are now rejects and once nostalgic items now considered as either junk or vintage keepsakes, depending on salability, all of which lie collecting dust in his closet.
A Toast
Wilcha’s penchant for going against the grain since the era of grainy camera quality that first debuted in an earlier obscure documentary titled The Target Shoots First (which was centred around his first ‘real’ job at Colombia House and highlighted the reality of corporate culture in the 90s, featuring a young and curious Wilcha armed with his hi-8 camera as he interrogated some bored coworkers on their relationship with their job) is also centre stage here in Flipside. Both documentaries also share a common goal of pulling focus towards varying workplace practices, a want to maintain individuality or agency and surviving as a creative/artist, which still proves to ultimately be a thankless and mostly unpaid position. Wilcha’s hunger and curiosity seems to have continued post the ‘90s as reflected in Flipside, particularly in instances wherein he interviews members of his own crew, quizzing them with concerns over maintaining a positive set atmosphere, their workload, etc and thus adding to the discourse on whether much has changed or worsened with the course of time.
Flipside also acts as a bridge of sorts between two varying eras- the 90s which marked the rise of cinematic gems such as Clerks and Office Space that put the mundane, thankless lives of both store employees and corporate cogs on the map in a manner that was both light-hearted yet thought-provoking as well as influential/trail-blazing to the indie scene, and the present day with social media influencers mindlessly popularising this 90s nostalgia. Wilcha keeps it less trendy though, instead pulling the curtains back on the lesser-known reality of the working class and young dreamers who grew up in the era (such as himself) in a less superficial or sugar-coated way, even throwing shade at the cringe attached to his own lived experience, sans romanticising the same. However he is also careful at not sounding mean-spirited or bitter towards the younger gen for promoting an altogether rose-tinted lens towards a past with which many of them don’t have a personal connection, but instead places emphasis on how far society has progressed since an era when a sense of achievement meant your own cramped office and when even burning out/being swallowed up by mounting paperwork was considered an ‘accomplishment’, as compared to the current day wherein cramped spaces are just not cool, neither are they perceived as hip nor romantic and even protested against by the modern youth.
Simultaneously, Wilcha explores his own imperfect memories of the era he grew up in (many of which he cringes at when he recollects them) and also addresses the Gen X and baby boomers’ own unhealthy relationship with nostalgia, particularly using the past as a comfort zone or blanket fort. The latter is highlighted via an example of his own dad who is a former ad man himself and who after decades of conforming to corporate culture by chasing star clients now cherishes the simpler things such as his hoard of AOL disks as well as a rather unethical yet economically fulfilling ‘hobby’ of sneaking soap bars from hotels. In this process Wilcha, a student of philosophy, also succeeds in posing philosophical and furthermore resounding questions on what actually holds value, as well as how can one measure what holds value or true meaning in a material world? Wilcha’s choice of cinematography similarly reflects this stark contrast between the real and romanticised – With the out-of-focus handheld shots conveying an unromantic tone when compared to more stylistic, polished, over-produced, or even tone-deaf commercials which showcase a perfect yet unrealistic world of shiny, white toothy grins which are only gimmicks to sell a product and thus far from the off-white reality.
In an era of every creative worth their salt raising concerns over AI takeover in the industry, it is but natural for Wilcha to devote a majority of screen time in his pertinent piece to tackle aspects such as the literal cost of showbiz, as well as cost of living as a creative, art eroding due to corporate corruption/commodification and lastly, sustainability in a dying economy. This is especially showcased through bittersweet examples of frequent visitors at Dan’s record shop such as Uncle Floyd, an entertainer and variety show host, who may appear to be fading from public memory now but was once celebrated for his unique brand of zany humour (a la Weird Al) and even immortalised in song by the great David Bowie himself via the single “Slip Away”, but whose popularity and performance bookings slipped away when likability was cast aside in favour of salability.
Wilcha’s knack for parallels once again rears its head as he draws comparison between Uncle Floyd’s decline among the youth of today with the least-selling record at Dan’s shop which is pushed to the back. The filmmaker also cites his own risks and struggles as yet another example, furthermore reminiscent or paralleled to the journeys of fellow creatives whom he has worked with and who are in similar ruts, such as an author with a case of writer’s block (ironically, she’s working on a self-help book) or the more assured protagonist of another unfinished project, veteran jazz photographer Herman Leonard, who managed to stay relevant despite the steady decline of jazz music itself, but nonetheless devotes himself to his unchanged passion to preserve an era that was once celebrated as sexy and nouveau and thus knows exactly what he wants out of his work, ensuring creative control sans compromise, and continuing to scratch the creative itch and work on his craft well into old age even if he’s sadly in a race against time, with little time left to live due to a spreading cancer.
The documentary also dwells on themes such as the competitive nature of the creative field and the need for reinvention due to emerging threats to niche endeavours, as new techniques fall out of trend or as the novelty wears off despite a creative kick for creators themselves and promising beginnings. An instance of the same includes the one of its kind record shop, too, no longer feeling solitary after a rival also named Dan sees an opportunity to expand upon his already spacious bookstore by opening it up to vinyl lovers too, thus resulting in the documentary touching upon how competition is rampant even in suburban NJ and not just limited to urban areas. And while Wilcha and a sympathetic tattoo artist who is a fellow small business owner show solidarity by encouraging a more traditionalist Dan to embrace social media for better reach, locals and the hip crowd alike are more kin on supporting more trendy spaces that come complete with quick digital check out options and merch, with ‘OG Dan’, who is much more informed on the vinyl that he sells and thus doesn’t require a computerized system, feeling an unfortunate pressure to conform to the current fast-paced atmosphere.
Aside from acting as a social commentary on the nerve-wracking, insipid, and seemingly endless rat race, Flipside also contains a moving story on a legacy that’s passed on and treasured in the form of the stench of aged meat that still lingers and furthermore perseveres in the store. This message of leaving behind a lasting impression for forthcoming generations is further conveyed via the presence of like-minded individuals such as the music-obsessed Tracy Wilson, a former employee at the store and a classmate of Wilcha (who recommended her to Dan). who has even permanently inked her arm with the store’s printed carpet, and was bequeathed with a sense of purpose while working there, thus continuing the legacy in her own way by passing along the sense of purpose and good taste in music through her own online vinyl store.
Scenes of the L.A.-based Wilcha eventually making himself at home in the newfound tranquil, laidback nature of NJ, finding it favourable in comparison to the fast-paced hustle culture of Hollywood and even preferring to record voiceover for the documentary in the woods or half empty streets, far from noisy cities, eventually tie in as Flipside wraps up, with the sweet realisation dawning upon Wilcha (and pretty much anyone else brave enough to detach themselves from material gain) that he would have much preferred cleaning rare and antiquated vinyl rather than cleaning out wallets by selling false hopes, and that being paid in records like in the ‘good old days’ is in itself an act that could be perceived as a modern rebellion against all-consuming corporate culture.
Verdict
Flipside is at times depressive, unsettling, yet simultaneously lively and poignant in its examination of the underdog’s struggle. The balance of nihilism and optimism when it comes to showcasing how small-town dreams may come at a cost yet are sweet and worth pursuing nonetheless makes it worth a watch. Lastly, it is not only a timely homage to keeping the oddities alive in a world that pushes for conformity, but also to the humble documentary filmmaker who takes great pains and is equally important in preserving memories (sometimes their own) with utmost sincerity, rather than shilling out…
