Lousy Carter Review: A Toxic Hero’s Journey

Bob Byington has built a career crafting quirky indies about hapless underachievers who seem perpetually stuck between childhood and maturity. His latest, Lousy Carter, centers on perhaps his most pitiful protagonist yet—a college professor given only half a year left to live who seems to take the news with little more concern than usual.

David Krumholtz sinks his teeth into the role, portraying Carter as a sullen and selfish man paralyzed by feelings of untapped potential. He lazes through his teaching job, leaving little impression on students besides annoyance. His one animated film from years past appears to be the sole thing keeping him employed. Beyond work, Carter floats through life, dragging others down into his gloom.

But now forced to reckon with impending death, Carter discovers not renewed purpose but more excuses to indulge sloth. With time so short, might he finally complete long-stalled passion projects or mend broken relationships? Not this manchild, it seems. Carter responds to life’s greatest challenge, as he does most others, by doing very little at all.

Defying Redemption: Carter Squanders His Final Months

Lousy Carter has never lived up to his considerable potential. Though he was once praised for an animated film in his youth, decades have passed with little to show but stagnation. He is calling in his teaching job and alienating those closest to him with selfishness and impatience. His ex-wife and estranged sister have long grown tired of his antics.

So when a doctor informs the dissipated literature professor that he has just six months to live, it seems like the perfect chance for Carter to make amends and find purpose. But redemption is not on the cards. Rather than use this opportunity to atone for or indulge in passions, Carter opts to double down on what holds him back.

He ignores telling his family of the diagnosis, seeing it as an inconvenience. Carter also decides his remaining days will be spent chasing vapid thrills, like pursuing an affair with one of his own students, Gail. The ambitious undergraduate is more intrigued by Carter as a subject of academic dissection than physical intimacy. Her rebuffs don’t discourage Carter as much as any of his other failures in life.

With time running out, Carter might have turned over a new leaf. But complacency runs deep. He continues squandering weekends drinking with his comrades and sleeping with the wife of his so-called friend. No clarity or grand gesture of atonement is forthcoming.

By the film’s end, Carter hasn’t grown significantly better acquainted with himself or society. He remains a disappointing man. Though death will deliver him from future screwing others over, he proves unable to avoid squandering one last opportunity to alter his legacy, exiting this world as ambivalently as he strolled through it.

The Unredeemable Lousy Carter

What an utterly unlikable lead character Bob Byington has created in Lousy Carter! Played masterfully by David Krumholtz, Carter is a washed-up literature professor defined by his toxic flaws and complete lack of redeeming qualities.

Despite finding early success with an animated film, Carter has long stagnated in his career and life. He makes barely any effort in his teaching duties and seems to care little for his students beyond using one as a prop in his stalled film project. Carter is also estranged from his family and dismissive of past relationships.

Worst of all, Carter shows no remorse for his selfish actions. He sleeps with his supposed “friend’s” wife, has no issue manipulating his vulnerable student Gail, and seems unfazed by the diagnosis that he has just six months to live. One gets the sense that little would change for Carter even if given years more.

Krumholtz brings Carter to a vivid, convincing life. He perfectly captures the character’s sardonic, apathetic facade that masks a lifetime of stagnation and lack of fulfillment. Yet there is never a hint that Carter might find meaning or atone before his demise. One can’t help but be both appalled and fascinated by such an unapologetically toxic screen presence.

Byington resists giving us any secret depths or tragic backstory that could elicit sympathy for Carter. He is simply an irredeemable loser who continues to squander what remains of his finite time on this earth.

Carter undergoes no character arc or moment of clarity. Byington denies us any catharsis by keeping Carter stubbornly stagnant until the very end. He exemplifies how some individuals remain disappointingly poor, whether they have six months or sixty more years to live.

In Krumholtz’s superb hands, Carter becomes a haunting cautionary tale of a life completely wasted. Byington leaves us questioning whether any of us could meet such an uninspiring yet truthful end.

Contrasting Carter and Kanji Watanabe

Lousy Carter’s journey in Bob Byington’s Lousy Carter stands in stark contrast to the character of Kanji Watanabe in Akira Kurosawa’s classic film Ikiru. While Watanabe dedicates his final months to creating a playground for children and finding a new purpose before his death, Carter does just the opposite. Upon receiving six months to live, Carter makes no grand plans or efforts to improve himself.

Instead of seizing what time he has left, Carter carries on as usual, coasting by on past failures and empty promises. Where Watanabe’s story is life-affirming, Carter’s is decidedly not. He serves only to further indulge in self-destructive behaviors and drain the lives of those around him. Byington purposefully subverts the expectations we bring to terminal diagnosis narratives by showing Carter blandly scrolling to his bitter end.

Through its leading man and pitch black comedy, Lousy Carter presents an unflinchingly realistic portrait of a certain type of man. It pulls no punches in depicting Carter’s toxicity, narcissism, and complete lack of redeeming qualities. Byington establishes a deliberately off-putting and deadpan tone that forces the audience to stare directly into the abyss of Carter’s wasted existence.

It maintains this clinical and unpleasant perspective throughout, never eliciting sympathy for Carter or offering catharsis. The result is an absorbing character study driven by a sustained cruel humor that holds a mirror to Carter’s stiflingly dull interior worldview.

By subverting conventions around terminal illness narratives, Lousy Carter takes an unexpected path. Rather than use his six-month timeline as motivation for personal growth, Carter only spirals further into stagnancy and selfish acts. When he fails to experience the perfect epiphany, sacrifice, or last-minute cure that such plot lines typically provide, the film highlights his disinterest in meaningful change. It leaves its unapologetically lousy lead firmly in uninspiring purgatory until the natural conclusion.

Breaking from Tradition

Bob Byington’s directorial style in Lousy Carter takes audiences down an unconventional path. He assembles a talented crop of actors but shoots the film using a grittier, DIY aesthetic that gives it a dreamlike feel. Together, these technical choices help bring the director’s distinct vision to life.

David Krumholtz delivers a tour de force performance in the leading role. Playing such an unsympathetic character could have been a risky move, but Krumholtz inhabits Lousy fully, finding nuance across wide-ranging emotions. Alongside him, actors like Martin Starr, Olivia Thirlby, and Stephen Root bring depth to even the supporting characters.

Byington backs his talented cast’s work with production values that break formal tradition. Shooting on grittier equipment lends the film a raw, unpolished style perfectly befitting its unconventional narrative. Though some visual gags fall flat, the lo-fi approach keeps viewers constantly off-balance in a way that enhances themes.

Most striking is the herky-jerky editing, which pulls the audience into Lousy’s detached mindset. Scenes jump nonlinearly, more like fragments of memory than a structured plot. This dreamlike structure refuses to make logic a priority, prioritizing mood. It makes the film a truly disorienting experience, just as its protagonist remains unanchored until the end.

Together, Byington’s direction and technical execution create a film that stands boldly apart. Lousy Carter may criticize certain traditions, but it also breaks the mold, finding new ways for its story and vision to shine through unfettered by convention.

Fulfilling Ambition

Lousy Carter wraps up, leaving us with mixed feelings about its central character and the film itself. David Krumholtz gives a tour de force lead performance that drives the entire production. He makes even the flawed Lousy compelling to watch until the end. However, the conclusion ultimately raises more questions than it answers.

Byington keeps viewers constantly guessing about where the storyline may lead. Yet when all is said and done, Lousy Carter changes very little and provides little catharsis. Some may find this frustrating after such an investment. Still, isn’t that the point? This man refuses to grow or learn from his limited time.

The film highlights important discussions around toxicity, regret, and finding purpose. But it provides no easy resolution. Like life, the ending is unsatisfying and real. Perhaps that’s Byington’s intent—to challenge audiences rather than comfort them.

Not every work must answer life’s deepest questions. As with Carter himself, the merits are in the moments that make us think, even if only to realize that some mysteries have no solution. For Krumholtz’s unforgettable performance alone, Lousy Carter is worth experiencing. It leaves us pondering both its characters and our own lives a little more profoundly.

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