SITGES 2020: Minor Premise
SITGESIf you’re planning to watch this, get ready to turn off your phone and take some notes because this is a dense one. Sathya Sridham plays Ethan, an alcoholic neuroscientist with daddy issues who goes all in on an untested theory in Eric Schultz’s directorial debut Minor Premise. The basic gist being that one could utilise technology to alter your personality traits on a whim (think changing skill sets in an RPG). This is explained during a rather hectic montage that almost makes viewers not pay attention to the college-lecture-style voiceover explaining the concept. It is likely that many will miss the premise of Minor Premise and the film rarely explains things twice, which is both refreshing and infuriating at different points.
When a mysterious book with a seemingly workable formula lands at Ethan’s door, he immediately hops into the machine to try it on himself. Anyone watching knows that something has to go wrong and, of course, it does. Ethan’s personality is fractured into 10 different “sections”: Default, Anxiety, Anger, Libido, Unconscious, Intellect, Primitive, Creative, Euphoria and the malevolent Section 8. Each section gets control of his body for 6 minutes at a time and causes chaos to varying degrees. Sridham goes all out for these sequences and really embodies the different sections. Unfortunately, a majority of them are never fully explored so the bulk of the film becomes Default and Intellect Ethans versus Section 8 Ethan. This decision really takes away a lot of the potential fun inherent in the concept and boils it down to a pretty rote man versus himself metaphor.
Let’s cut to the chase: this is basically a modern remake of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde with a dash of Split for good measure. It’s an interesting way to tell the story but writers Schultz, Justin Moretto, and Tommy Torrey get so bogged down with the mechanics of both the invention and the ‘sections’ that the movie never really has time to get a narrative. There’s a ticking time-bomb of sorts about the various sections dying off, but Ethan as a character is never likable enough that those stakes feel particularly high. This issue is exacerbated by Ethan’s ex-girlfriend, Ali, played by Paton Ashbrook. She is somewhat of an audience surrogate as well as the emotional connection to the stale Ethan, but after their first interaction post-experiment, it is a constant question as to why she doesn’t leave or call the police. The film tries to explain this away at numerous points and Ashbrook does an admirable job, but Ali never seems to have enough focused determination in her work or residual feelings for Ethan to sell the idea that Ali wouldn’t get the hell out of Dodge the second one of his more uncouth personalities appeared.
Overall, Minor Premise feels exactly like what it is: a competent first film and a calling card for everyone involved to get bigger projects moving forward. It’s a fun concept, bogged down by a wordy script, but contains some great performances with some actors that can handle the excessive science jargon with ease. It’s more memorable for what could have been than what it actually was.
