Director: James Ciganek
Writer: James Ciganek
Cast: Curtis Nelson, Josh Casserly, Katie Casserly
Running time: 14mins
On initial contact with Sky Full of Stars for a Roof, it might seem difficult to see why it was submitted in IFL’s experimental category. It appears to be a relatively conventional Western, with a possibly supernatural twist in its tail-end. But I don’t think a film should need to be broken down to an assortment of amorphous shapes and colours – or to be so slow-moving or without a recognisable story that it can only be shown in a gallery space – to be considered experimental.
Broadly, I would be willing to accept Sky Full of Stars for a Roof’s classification as an experiment in narrative minimalism – seeing how little detail is required to tell an effective, moving story via the communication of genre tropes.
I’ve said before I love when films play with genre for this reason. The conventional beats which archetypical stories centre on provide a kind of universal language of the initiated. If a creator provides a sufficient nod to these norms without leaning too heavily on them, they can tap into the warmth of a fan’s nostalgia, while subverting them to give us something to think about long after the story draws to a close.
Western ‘cowboy’ movies have been done to death, and then resurrected for fresh retellings which themselves go on to become cliché, repeatedly over the last century. They are anachronistic in every incarnation – but the way those anachronisms shift over time give us a reflection of our own changing society, if not an accurate picture of the era the movies take place in. As such, the genre has also become ripe for introspection; for using those narratives to comment on that framing and reframing of history.
In video games, where a cultural event can take its time, and last for months for its audience, Red Dead Redemption series takes that idea and runs for miles. There, the games use their genre foundations as a foundation for some extremely successful maximalist storytelling, particularly in RDII. In film – where even if the audience could devote days to a cinematic experience, the inability to explore for themselves would drive them to distraction – Sky Full of Stars for a Roof heads in the opposite direction.
Both, however, centre on someone whose past is steeped in blood and exploitation, coming to terms with the consequences of their choices, and reconciling with their mortality.
Here, we follow a man with no name – credited only as Bounty Hunter, Curtis Nelson’s character is defined solely by what he does: hunt and kill wanted criminals for money. It is a life where a name would frankly have no use anyway; the perpetual cycle of explosive violence means there is no way to experience a peaceful life, as the legacy of his choices will always catch up to him.
Signifying this, after the Bounty Hunter cashes in his latest corpse, he passes the Sheriff’s Wife (Katie Casserly) in the street. She is heavily pregnant. As the woman passes, he nods and comes about as close to giving a warm smile as a contract killer can; but after, he can’t help but send another look back over his shoulder. He sees her embrace her husband, the Sheriff (Josh Casserly), and this time his face evokes a sense of regret, sadness. This is a life he could have led, too – one where he helps to bring life into the world. As it is, he has condemned himself to roam the desert alone, snuffing it out. He is a member of the walking dead.
As the film progresses, we see various nods to popular culture where this rugged archetype has been idealised as rugged individuals – signifiers of the American dream. A wall of bounty posters features Tuco from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, and Butch Cassidy – though no Sundance Kid.
Matthew Reid and Jordan Chiaruttini Michaelangelo Perrera’s original score draws heavily from the catalogue of Ennio Morricone, and particularly his score to For a Few Dollars More. Title cards resemble loading screens from Red Dead Redemption II (which obviously draws from the same well of inspiration)– with hand-writing seemingly rising from the Bounty Hunter’s sketchbook, into beautifully shot vistas from the wilderness, captured by director of photography Zachary Peel-McGreggor in sumptuous 35mm.
The film even leans into the Tarantino tradition of taking another Western’s name, and then ‘remaking’ it with a story that has literally nothing to do with the original, as per Django and Django Unchained. (A Sky Full of Stars for a Roof was a semi-comic Italian Western from 1968, about an odd couple of drifters who become traveling companions.)
But for all of this, as we sit in the Bounty Hunter’s company, through a cycle of explosive violence that might have previously been seen as in some way glorious – a cinematic vindication of the American ideological project – we feel no rush, no swell of pride or exhilaration amid the unfolding carnage. We don’t know what crimes the victims here are accused of, if they have been fairly tried, or even if they are the people crudely caricatured on the wanted posters. The one thing we do know, is that the Bounty Hunter doesn’t care.
Even so, his mind still wanders back to what he saw earlier – and to thoughts of a life he never had. When the film suddenly shifts in tone later, this serves to underwrite his own acceptance of things – that maybe it is time for him, and the bloody, exploitative way of life he represents, to disappear into the sunset.
All this takes place without dialogue, and with very little titling. There is no grand moment of exposition to let us know what we have seen, and no way to know absolutely for sure that we got any of our assumptions on the story right. That makes for a brave experiment in genre storytelling – especially considering it does not merely seek to echo previous movies in the field, but to subvert and critique them.
There are still areas for improvement. While the aim might have been to get us to see the grim nature of what the Bounty Hunter does, without the bells and whistles of a Sergio Leone shoot-out, the film is in dire need of some tension, some cinematic weight – which we could transition away from to a more grimy, grounded moment of introspection later.
The first gun-fight we see is a textbook duel at high-noon, in the deserted street of a sun-baked town; everything should take twice as long as it needs to, we should be looking at people’s eyes for signs of nerves, observing beads of sweat meandering down their faces. And when the fatal shot comes, there should be a beat or two where the pair stand in silence, until once collapses to the ground. Instead, the Bounty Hunter’s target unceremoniously hits the dirt like a sack of spuds.
And while that would work well for later fights, where the scales begin to fall from our eyes about what the Bounty Hunter is, or represents, that needs to be a transition. We need a moment where the fantasy really holds – even temporarily.
Even so, there is enough here for the experiment to succeed. The dry crackle of the (presumably artificial) film-ageing; the hollow, ghostly whistling of the soundtrack; the seemingly infinite horizons of the fantastically photographed American West; and the grizzled performance of Nelson as the film’s silent lead, give us what we need in terms of genre staples – while Ciganek’s measured and patient direction delivers us an innovative, refreshing take on the ideology at the heart of it all. And the fact this is his directorial debut suggests there are even better things to come from him in future projects.
In September, Indy Film Library will host its latest Experimental Showcase in Amsterdam. It is safe to say in the seven editions of the event, we will not have shown another movie quite like this – an interesting, experimental take on a conventional genre. If you are a fan of Westerns, or even if you aren’t, this is not to be missed.
