Tribeca: “The Scout” Reveals Who We Are Behind Closed Doors
The more you learn about filmmaking, the clearer it becomes that the mere creation of a movie is a miracle in itself. Even before the first frame is committed to film, a series of thousands of unlikely circumstances have to happen. There has to be a script, then a director, then a cinematographer, a production designer, a costumer, a location scout – the list goes on forever. The role of the location scout is the job of the titular character in the Tribeca-premiering film, The Scout. Paula González-Nasser’s narrative feature feels so close to reality that it could have been a documentary about the chaos that is filmmaking.
courtesy of Tribeca
Sofia (Mimi Davila) is a location scout for an upcoming television show. The Scout is a day-and-a-half in her life as she travels from apartment to apartment across New York City. We see the oddity that is her work. While location scout sounds glamorous, what Sofia does all day is enter the homes of strangers, make awkward small talk as she takes photos, drive back and forth through tunnels, rack up parking tickets, and crash for a few hours before doing it all again the next day. One of the potential locations Sofia visits belongs to someone she knows, which throws a wrench into her already unbalanced day.
One of the most striking aspects of the film is how stagnant the camera remains throughout the entire runtime. We move through a variety of locations, going from Sofia’s apartment, to her car, to the production office, back to her car, and then on an odyssey across the city. Yet in each of these places, the camera doesn’t move. We are voyeurs, like Sofia, who are experiencing slices of the lives of strangers. It’s hard not to be nosy when presented with this motionless camera. Our eye isn’t distracted by its movement or its shakiness. We have nothing to focus on other than the words and the knickknacks, furniture, and art filling up these spaces. A home is a reflection of the people who live in it, and it’s thrilling to be able to virtually rifle through the drawers of our neighbors.
courtesy of Tribeca
The Scout takes a turn when one of the locations belongs to someone Sofia actually knows, but has lost touch with. The conversation that takes place between them is far more uncomfortable than any of those that unfold between Sofia and a stranger. The reason is because when you fall out of touch with someone, it can be next to impossible to build the relationship back to what it was. How do you talk to someone you know so well, yet who feels like a stranger? That’s worse than any conversation with someone you know nothing about. It’s an awkwardness that makes your skin crawl in a way that’s heartbreaking. You make promises about meeting for drinks to reconnect, knowing full well you’ll never have those drinks. Not because you don’t want to, but because life is moving a million miles a second and simply keeping your head above water is taking everything you have.
While The Scout may play out more like a horror movie to anyone who’s been involved with a film shoot, to the average viewer it’s a bit like a sociological experiment. Who is the type of person to let a bunch of strangers into their house to shoot a movie? What’s on their walls? Do they make you take your shoes off at the door? The Scout is about knowing people intimately, artificially, and wholly.
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