Free Time tackles the familiar mumblecore themes of aimlessness and uncertainty in modern life. We meet Drew shortly after he unexpectedly quits his New York City data entry job, seeking more fulfillment but with no clear plan. Colin Burgess brings Drew vividly to life; you can’t help but relate to his frustration or laugh at his fumbling attempts to fill each day.
But this is no mere tale of slackers couch surfing. Brown’s screenplay takes us deeper into Drew’s psyche. Faced with judging looks from established friends, rejection from his old boss, and a shifting band, Drew’s confidence crumbles. Burgess captures the doubts awakening inside with subtle, profound skill.
Free Time explores how our jobs mold our identities and what happens when that structure is gone. Drew finds no easy answers regarding dreams or purpose. Brown leaves some threads loose, yet overall, his film thoughtfully probes life’s permanence in change. While not flawless, it powerfully raises questions that still linger long after. Through Drew’s journey of stumbles and self-reflection, Free Time leaves us seeing our daily routines—and possibilities beyond—in a refreshing light.
Assessing Drew’s Journey of Self-Discovery
Colin Burgess brings Ryan Martin Brown’s character Drew vividly to life. From the start, his portrayal captures the creeping aimlessness of a man drifting after sudden change. Burgess plays Drew’s small act of quitting his job as both liberating yet laced with doubts, the thrill of freedom clashing with a loss of purpose.
We see this conflict writ large as Drew flounders with endless days. Burgess plays each awkward encounter to showcase Drew grasping for answers, whether escaping judgment from friends or rejection from past colleagues. Yet underneath, there lingers frustration at a world moving without direction for him. Burgess ensures we understand Drew’s turmoil, even when he frustrates us with rash choices.
This nuanced portrayal is what makes Drew such a compelling, messy protagonist. Though his actions veer off, Burgess ensures sympathy by emphasizing Drew’s very human desire to find fulfillment. His escalating outbursts feel less like privilege and more like panicking flails as one door closes after another. Burgess anchors the film through our ability to relate to Drew’s aimless, confused state, if not his actions within it.
By the climax, Drew has burned many bridges, yet Burgess leaves room for understanding why this man finally snapped. His closing scene quietly conveys the bittersweet acceptance, for Drew and ourselves, of realities we don’t wish to embrace. Ultimately, Burgess grants Brown’s complex character dimension that could elicit judgment but instead prompts self-reflection on roads not taken in our own lives and liberation’s challenges after change.
Guiding a Flawed yet Poignant Story
Ryan Brown shows promise behind the camera. Free time often feels lived-in, its mellow autumnal palette enhancing downtempo moments. From cluttered apartments to tense office environments, Brown creates a world viewers can feel within.
However, the story is where Free Time falters. The climax arrives abruptly, concluding Drew’s arc with a punchline instead of a purpose. And while the band subplot augments Drew’s self-doubt, it progresses flatly, detracting from the heart. Perhaps trimming these and fleshing the middle may have paid dividends.
Where Brown excels is in dialogue. Conversations buzz with the awkward pauses and stilted jokes of real exchange. Through naturalism, we grasp Drew’s isolation despite superficial connections. Yet piecing the plot fully together proves taxing at times.
Free Time presents poignant ruminations on purpose and masculinity but refuses to excavate them fully. The direction captures essence but lacks form. Brown clearly understands lives on life’s margins yet struggles to construct their scenic journey.
Overall, Brown shows flair for framing dysfunctions within friendship, work, and wellbeing. But a tighter edit may have resolved Drew’s story with the care and insight it demands. Brown possesses an empathetic eye; refining structure and dramaturgy could foster deeper insights from his observations of lives slipping through society’s cracks.
With polishing, Brown may guide more profound portrayals of alienation and self-determination for those lacking life’s instruction manual. For now, Free Time operates as a flawed yet honest snapshot of floundering in one’s late twenties.
Escaping the Hamster Wheel
Free Time delves into a relatable dilemma: does abandoning a steady career path for undefined “freedom” truly lead to fulfillment? Through Drew’s experiences, Ryan Brown ponders what gives life meaning and whether ambition alone can replace secure employment’s stability.
Drew quits data entry, hoping independence will spark passion and purpose. But lacking tangible dreams, leisure’s joys prove fleeting. Friends’ busy lives leave little space for aimless drifting. Isolated and purposeless, regret weighs heavy. Clearly, Drew equated occupation with identity, unraveling without work’s structure.
His band mates’ country shift signals changing priorities that leave no place for Drew. Again, he witnesses interests outgrowing their shared past. Without adaptable skills, unemployment becomes a plight instead of playtime. Conversations show a man lost in a world that is progressing without him.
Eventually, even fantasized rebellion loses allure. Drew yearns less for cause than for career. Haphazard living exposes financial reality’s constraints and society’s expectations. Where will he fit without a mold? Rejected from reapplying, no substitute emerges for the role and reputation taken for granted.
By picture’s end, Drew relinquishes his rebellious spirit, resuming the replaced identity he thought confined him. But has he learned that satisfaction lies beyond roles alone—that life’s purpose blossoms from within, not without? Or will another stagnant season renew restlessness for a man who quits chasing a dream too abstract to grasp?
Free time sparks questions about society, work, happiness, and what truly drives one forward. In its nuanced protagonist, Brown crafts a timely reflection of feeling perpetually adrift in a sea of change.
Breaking from the Pack
While Burgess drives Free Time, strong support lifts the film higher. Jessie Pinnick shines as Drew’s potential love interest, effortlessly funny yet sympathetic. Their scenes crackle, and her comedic timing is mint. As Drew flounders, she anchors with wit and warmth.
Holmes also stands out with nuanced moments. His roommate brings levity, whether mockingly through Drew’s endless DVD viewings or encouraging career turns. Multifaceted supporting players enrich the world, ensuring Drew is not our sole focus.
Webb delivers reserved power to Drew’s former workplace. His staid reactions to Drew’s bursts spotlight the character’s volatility. Suresh and Salimi introduce intrigue as discontent counterparts to Drew’s campaign.
Together, this ensemble ensures varied tones. As Drew searches aimlessly, they introduce optimism, authority, and reflection. No character is one-dimensional. Through their relationships and responses, Brown fleshes out complex lives around our protagonist.
Free Time benefits greatly from its cast’s depth. More than carrying comedic bits, this ensemble brings humanity. They elevate material above a sole narrator, crafting a full picture of an uncertain time. Their contributions make Drew’s journey feel universal instead of singular.
Resonating Performances Uplift Free Time
Colin Burgess plays Drew with a unique earnestness that anchors the film. His awkward desperation feels authentic, inspiring sympathy despite his missteps. Burgess ensures Drew avoids clichés, crafting a nuanced portrait of confusion in unfamiliar freedom. We share Drew’s disbelief when plans fall through, chuckling sadly at each error.
Brown captures the complex emotions many experience post-college. Free time speaks to dissatisfaction with prescribed paths and a lack of self-knowledge. Drew, floundering yet determined, represents millennials facing open-ended futures. Burgess elevates this exploration, imbuing Drew with humility beneath uncertainty. We root for his growth, not facile solutions.
With Burgess at the helm, Free Time functions less as mumblecore than a character study. Its brief runtime suits an intimate focus on Drew rather than a sprawling plot. Musical cues sweetly accentuate Drew’s naive spirit. Cinematography in rosy hues soothes, reflecting Drew’s warm, if troubled, core.
Free Time lives up to its title by depicting freedom as disorienting rather than liberating. Yet Brown grants dignity to Drew’s situation through Burgess’ nuanced, never-cloying work. Their collaboration ensures we learn from rather than dismiss Drew. Free Time celebrates everyday resilience over easy answers, resonating long after its close. Ultimately, Burgess and Brown make Drew a hero for anyone navigating life’s bumpy roads.
Respectable Ambition, Modest Execution
Free Time set an admirable goal in its character study of Drew’s existential quarter-life crisis. Unfortunately, execution wavered where the concept shone brightest. Brown grasped the disorientation of abandoning a stable path, and Burgess brought nuanced life to Drew’s conflicting fears and entitlements. Their efforts made his dilemma compelling, even when his choices proved misguided.
Yet the narrative lost direction as Drew drifted between unformed ideas. His band subplot and later commune phase felt loosely sketched beside the rich opening. And while Drew’s confrontation capped his arc, understandably, the resolution arrived too abruptly after such a muted build. With tightening and greater drama, Brown’s script might have hit deeper.
Despite missteps, Burgess’ alive performance and the film’s sympathetic view of millennial struggle give Free Time value. Its refreshingly down-to-earth take on dreams deferred rings true for many seeking purpose. And on a technical level, Auburn cinematography envelops the tale warmly.
While not maximizing potential, Free Time demonstrates refreshing ambition within its mumblecore style. With slicker refinement, Brown shows talent for capturing life’s messy realities on complex personal scales. For anyone struggling to find their way, Drew proves how even modest stories can resonate through the honest struggles we’ve all faced.
The Review
Free Time
In conclusion, while Free Time shows flashes of intriguing character insight and genuinely relatable themes of post-college purposelessness, its narrative loses focus over too brief a runtime. Burgess' empathetic lead lifts material that otherwise wants drama and thematic heft. Ultimately, Brown demonstrates promise but needs polishing in execution.
PROS
- Authentic and sympathetic lead performance from Colin Burgess
- Relatable exploration of post-college lack of direction
- Captures the disorientation of abandoning a stable career path.
- Warm cinematography enhances character-driven stories.
CONS
- Narrative loses focus over too-brief runtime.
- Band and commune subplots feel hastily sketched.
- Lack of drama and deeper thematic development
- Conclusion arrives abruptly without fully resolving arcs.
