Low Down movie review & film summary (2014)

It sure  seems as though Joe Albany (John Hawkes), the real-life pianist and heroin addict at the center of "Low Down," plays jazz and shoots dope for all those reasons; well, those reasons, and the fact that he's a junkie hanging with other junkies, which isn't a situation that lends itself to sobriety. Directed by cinematographer Jeff Preiss, a jazz fan who shot the 1990 Chet Baker documentary "Let's Get Lost," the film is based on a memoir by Joe's daughter Amy (Elle Fanning), and unfolds mostly through her eyes, circa 1975 or so. They share a small apartment in downtown Los Angeles, in a building full of prostitutes and junkies. "I can't keep myself straight here," Joe confesses in a moment of clarity.

But Amy adores her dad and respects his artistry, and because she's lived her whole life in his chaotic world, she doesn't see her situation as dire. It's just her situation, and as long as dad's around, it's fine. The film's carefully maintained point-of-view explains why this objectively bleak tale feels mostly warm and gentle. I like to think that's why Priess shot "Low Down" in soft, grainy 16mm, favoring brown and russet and gold and creamy-white: we're seeing this world as Amy sees it, through hopeful, loving eyes.

There's plenty to love about Joe, but Amy's hope is misplaced, and in time she'll figure it out. I've described "Low Down" as a jazz movie and an addiction movie, but both  are folded into a coming-of-age film. It's about a young woman who's becoming a grownup and realizing that her father is an adult, too, but one whose lifestyle (as an artist as well as a junkie) gave him license to never grow up, at least not in the way that "square" parents must.

Joe lives from gig to gig, and blows a lot of the money he makes on dope. Like many addicts with kids, he genuinely loves his daughter, but expresses that love in the form of conversations and fleeting, spontaneous adventures rather than through the mundane day-to-day grunt work of parenting. (He's the kind of guy who can make it seem as though he's listening to you, even though his mind is elsewhere.) Amy and Joe don't go out much as father and daughter, and we rarely see them talking about Amy's schoolwork, her personal development, or the future. He brings her to gigs, and invites other musicians over to the apartment to jam while she listens, but that's not the same thing as fathering a child. Preiss lets the harsh reality of Joe's neglect enter the film subtly, as when Amy's grandmother, Gram (Glenn Close), has Amy over for dinner and exclaims, "Look at you, girl, you eat like a linebacker—I love it!" In another scene, a hungover Joe wakes Amy up and tells her to hurry to school, and she groans, "It's the weekend." A smile creeps across Joe's face. "It is, isn't it?" he says. "That's great news."

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