The simple saga centers on Joshua (Jon Jacobs), a drifter from England who lands in the mean streets of L.A. In a seedy Hollywood bar he's befriended by Ana (Ayesha Hauer), another wandering Euro, and the two go off to her loft.
The simple saga centers on Joshua (Jon Jacobs), a drifter from England who lands in the mean streets of L.A. In a seedy Hollywood bar he’s befriended by Ana (Ayesha Hauer), another wandering Euro, and the two go off to her loft.
However, following a night of intimacy, Joshua awakes to find himself cuffed to the hulk of a vintage Oldsmobile (presumably a failed attempt at artistic expression). His wallet’s been purloined and the young woman is nowhere to be found. When Ana returns, his money’s gone and she’s tripping out from a heroin fix. She’s not about to free her cash captive.
TX:A Silver Shadow release of a Brothers Kastenbaum production in association with Terra Pictures and Matt Devlen. Produced by Michael Kastenbaum, Seth Kastenbaum. Executive producer, Geraldine Sutton. Co-producers, Devlen, Ethan Holzman. Directed by Philippe Dib. Screenplay, Jon Jacobs, Dib. Though it unravels at a leisurely pace, the tale written by Jacobs and director Philippe Dib maintains an air of mystery and curiosity that’s simultaneously unnerving and engrossing. Ana’s initial motivation may have been monetary but that end clearly has finite dimensions.
The verbal interplay between the two actors is essentially banal. However, they strike a chord that rings true and embody characters whose plight seems authentic and immediate. It’s not so much love that drives them apart and brings them back together, rather a need for companionship. As they develop a bond, Joshua’s zeal to get the woman off drugs is less about passion and more as a personal check about his own sobriety.
Filmed in a stark, spare manner, “Welcome Says the Angel” benefits from its visual simplicity and an eerie musical track composed by Nels Cline and George Lockwood. However, it’s truly the chemistry between Jacobs and Hauer that glues the pieces together. While neither is conventionally attractive, they have a raw energy and naivete which is appealing.
Pic is unquestionably a testament to making the most of nothing and Dib is still culpable of such youthful indulgence as stray, artful images and lingering too long on perceived clever dialogue. Somehow it doesn’t seriously impugn the picture’s integrity or the forceful depiction of slightly desperate, if inviolable, marginalia.