Ballast Blu-ray delivers great video and audio in this excellent Blu-ray release
In the Mississippi Delta, a mother and her 12-year-old son try desperately to escape the
poverty that rules the region. But their efforts are confounded when the boy's attempts to win
the favor of his fellow teens lead him into a dangerous situation with a lonely and broken man
"Heavy material carried in the hold of a ship, especially one that has no cargo," is how one
dictionary defines ballast, and this is a perfect metaphor for the heavy material carried in
the otherwise empty souls of the three characters who inhabit the bleak world of director Lance
Hammer's stark and elegiac theatrical debut. There's a lot of heaviness in Ballast—dense
anger and compacted resentment, leaden sorrow and calcified regret. And yet, there are also
moments of transcendence, of utter profundity and aching truth. It's rare to see a debut film so
aesthetically assured and thematically inclusive.
Michael J. Smith, Sr.
When the narrative begins, Darrius has already killed himself with a sleeping pill overdose. As his
body lies in unsettling repose, his identical twin Lawrence (Michael J. Smith, Sr.) sits in shock in
an adjacent room, having made this grim discovery an undisclosed time before. A neighbor comes
to the door to check in. The convenience store the brothers own has been closed for a few days;
he just wants to make sure everything is okay. He smells the body; obviously it's been awhile.
When the neighbor calls 9-1-1 to report Darrius' death, Lawrence stoically walks next door to his
own home. We hear—but do not see—a gunshot. The effect is startling.
Lawrence survives, and these dual tragedies—his brother's death and his own suicide attempt—
are the catalyst for a familial drama years in the making. Darrius has left behind a widow, Marlee
(Tarra Riggs), but it's been some eleven years since the two were last together. For some initially
undisclosed reason, Darrius had left her, and in return, she placed a restraining order against
him, forbidding him to see their son, James (JimMyron Ross), who is now twelve years old. The
relationships and history between the four characters—the living, and the dead Darrius—are
slowly but inexorably unearthed. There's no needless exposition, no gratuitous flashbacks or
voice-over narration. Instead, we're left to largely fill in the blanks for ourselves, piecing together,
through snatches of dialogue, the unspoken mutual resentment that has festered between
Marlee and Lawrence for over a decade, and which they are now forced to confront. Marlee is poor
and newly unemployed, trying her best to raise a son who desperately needs a father. And
Lawrence is bereft, constantly on the verge of another suicide attempt. Feeling the pangs of his
brother's death like the throbbings of a phantom limb—he remarks that they shared a single soul
—Lawrence is unsure how to proceed alone into the world. These three people obviously need
one another, but the past endlessly complicates the present, and Ballast is unwilling to
present easy solutions to the most difficult problems of these characters' lives.
This is an artful, literary film, with a naturalistic narrative and a cinematic aesthetic to match.
The hand-held cinematography by Lol Crawley gives us unrelenting access into the lives of the
characters and their surroundings. The film takes place during a drab, sunless winter on a
desolate stretch of the Mississippi Delta, which, though it seems cliché to say, truly becomes the
film's fourth character. Like Terrance Malick, director Lance Hammer dwells on place and
poeticizes the landscape, casting his lens on the barren fields, the burned out forests of skeletal
trees, the joyless houses and all the visual cues of rural poverty. When a train passes through,
it's going somewhere, somewhere our characters are never likely to go. In the film's
opening shot, James watches a flock of squalling, migratory birds take flight from the marsh next
to his
house. They can fly away; he can't. The symbolism is heartrending but completely organic, never
forced.
In fact, there's not a false moment here, emotionally, in terms of narrative, or otherwise. The
pacing is thoughtful but never sluggish, and the complete absence of a score means that every
feeling the film raises is natural, unaided by the emotional prodding for which music is usually
used. None of this would be possible without the performances, which are uniformly excellent,
realistic and affecting. The three novice actors were given two full months of rehearsal, which
included a lot of improvisational conflict exercises, some of which are included in the special
features on this disc. I really can't stress enough how natural and fluid the acting is here,
particularly from Michael J. Smith and Tarra Riggs, whose unfolding arguments truly feel
burdened by the history of their characters. The ending of the film is ambiguous—perfectly so—
but I sense some optimism. Maybe I was wrong when I claimed, in my introduction, that the
ballast of the title was the emotional bagged lugged around by the protagonists. Perhaps the real
ballast—the thing that keeps them upright—is one another.
Kino International has given Ballast a weighty appearance on Blu-ray, offering up a
1080p/AVC-encoded transfer that well represents the film's stark and austere imagery. I'm
admittedly in love with the cinematography here—it's coldly perceptive, with depth and beautiful
use of focus—and I'm happy to note that this transfer from 35mm to high definition never
hampers the film with any technical shortcomings. My only real complaint—and this is a source
issue—is that white specks are occasionally visible on the print. It's never to the point of
distraction, but they are noticeable. In all other ways, this is a solid presentation; it's not as crisp
or clean as the latest big-budget extravaganza, but the film's intentions are aptly met. As you can
tell from the screenshots, almost the entire film is cloaked in somber bluish-grey tones. Even if
they aren't vivid, the colors here have a depth and presence, never appearing washed out or
unstable. There are exceptions—James' red polo shirt is extremely bright and saturated in
comparison, which I have to think is intentional. Black levels too are strong, and while there is a
bit of crush, this is part of the visual aesthetic of the film, which predominately relies on natural
light sources and deep shadow. Clarity is astute, especially for a film shot almost entirely hand-
held. Fine facial detail is easily discernable, and the surrounding rural wasteland is keenly
resolved. Grain can get a bit heavy during some of the darker scenes, but it has an organic
quality that suits the nature of the film.
There's only one instance of music in Ballast—a jukebox plays a tune while Lawrence is
sitting in a bar. This lasts for about three seconds. There's no score, no strings to cue our
sentiments or pounding rhythms to drive the tension. Like No Country For Old Men, the
soundscape here is completely natural, built upon airy ambience, the crunch of gravel underfoot,
the slamming of a car door, and the various mundane sounds of a mundane life. While not quite as
detailed and immersive as the Coen brothers' classic, Ballast's Dolby TrueHD 5.1 surround
track pairs perfectly with its bleak visuals. Sounds are clean and weighted and resonate with the
appropriate acoustics. The rear channels frequently broadcast an outdoorsy hush; wind blowing
softly, crickets singing in the evening, a car passing somewhere in the distance. When the train
roars past, we even get some deep LFE rumbling. Dialogue is mostly clean and comprehensible. I
say mostly because JimMyron Ross mutters occasionally and it's sometimes difficult to make out
what he's saying. The other leads are clearly understood throughout. In general, the mix is
balanced and the sound editing is excellent, using naturally occurring noises to emotional effect.
Making Of: Scene Development (1080p, 37:45)
After watching Ballast, I really wished the director had opted to do a commentary. The
film
does speak for itself, but I'd love some insight into Lance Hammer's inspirations and influences,
or
even just a few words on how he arrived at the film's visual aesthetic. While a commentary is
sadly
missing, we do get these rehearsal tapes, which show the actors practicing specific scenes, as well
as engaging in some improvised verbal conflict that expands upon their characters. Do note that
while this plays in 1080p—to allow finished clips from the film to be shown in full quality—the
rehearsal tapes themselves are upscaled from standard definition video.
Ballast is a bold debut from writer and director Lance Hammer, a film that, in its artistry
and intuition, feels like it could've come from one of the great auteurs of the 1970s. It's not for all
tastes—this is, in some ways, a deeply sad film—but if you're looking for some honest, serious-
minded cinema, Ballast is an excellent choice. Kino International—who also released Buster
Keaton's The General this week—delivers a strong presentation here as well, with a lossless
TrueHD audio track and a director-supervised 1080p transfer from the film's 35mm interpositive.
Highly recommended.
All countries
