Do they know it's Lister-Jones at all
Zoe Lister-Jones bubbled under the surface of the indie comedy-drama film scene for the better part of the ‘00s and early ‘10s. She made a couple of films with her husband Daryl Wein, typically co-starring and co-writing in their films. Finally, in 2017, she made her first film as solo director, and it’s one I like a lot: The musical dramedy Band Aid.
Band Aid is a Lister-Jones project through and through — she writes, directs, produces, and co-stars in the film. Her experience with other movies really shows: this is a remarkably assured debut, with a confident polish and a surprisingly well-executed tonal arc from sardonic relationship comedy to upbeat musical comedy to touching, naturalistic drama. Its vibes are excellent, its mission unique, and it’s final segment is downright touching.
The story follows married couple Anna (Lister-Jones) and Ben (Adam Pally), who are in the midst of a rut. Anna can’t stop getting mad at Ben for small grievances that are really symptoms of a larger disengagement with their relationship: dishes left piled in the sink and inattentive conversations, etc. Meanwhile, Ben finds Anna to be wrapped up in a depressive spiral she is unwilling and unable to escape, her nonstop negativity making her a drag to be around.
The couple copes with their malaise by getting high and chilling with friends all the time, but this ultimately makes them feel worse: Their friends’ milestones only further lampshade their own stasis.
This is all played as a dry comedy, and the movie is overall quite funny. Lister-Jones in particular is terrifically funny as a wry cynic; she gives herself the best material. Pally and Lister-Jones have calibrated their chemistry just right – easygoing enough that it’s believable they fell in love, acidic enough to buy their romantic tension.
The first turning point in the film comes during a spat in the garage about the same old bullshit, only for the couple to divert their fight by picking up their instruments and turning their arguments into a dumb, improvised song. It defuses the tension, leading to the discovery that they can use music as a means of keeping their relationship on the rails: Whatever the topic of their rising argument, transmuting it into song makes the conflict fizzle away.
This premise is a bit cutesy and twee on the surface, the product of the post-Flight of the Concords supposition that everything is funny if part of a jokey song, even if it doesn’t have much of a punchline. It should feel lazy and half-assed. Yet I found myself smitten with the film, not because of anything about the music itself but the way the characters open up as a result. Band Aid remains surprisingly grounded for most of the duration, and it pivots naturally into the characters actually working through their demons.
The drama explored in the second half of the film, in which the characters confront a dark chapter they’ve papered over with pot and petty fights, is genuinely touching and earned. The shift from bouncy fun to wounded anger happens at a perfect moment in the film, just as it’s on the verge of slipping too far into fluffy wish fulfillment.
Fred Armisen plays a major role as Anna and Ben’s neighbor and the drummer of the ad hoc band they form. His character is given a broad backstory about being a sex addict who runs a support group for ridiculously beautiful nymphomaniacs. It’s not entirely out of band from the rest of the film, but Armisen delivers the jokiest, most overtly comic performance of the film in a rather silly side plot. I did not enjoy it, but I’m not a big Armisen guy in the best circumstances.
Overall, though, Band Aid is a movie that really clicked for me, enough that I’d recommend it for anyone who likes music crossed with their drama-comedies.
Is It Good?
Very Good (6/8)
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