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The Beta Test, 2021
Jordan Hines (Jim Cummings) is a Hollywood agent under constant pressure to broker deals in a toxic workplace where appearing to be successful seems to be most of the battle. On the verge of marrying his fiance, Caroline (Virginia Newcomb), Jordan’s life is thrown into complete disarray when he receives an anonymous letter inviting him to a sexual encounter with a stranger. Jordan goes through with the illicit rendezvous, but his life begins to fall apart in the aftermath as he becomes obsessed with tracking down the woman he slept with and whoever paired them together.
Getting some good mileage out of Cummings demented charisma, this film loses some steam by pulling itself in too many directions, yet holds together in the end.
Jim Cummings absolutely enthralled me with Thunder Road, and I’ve been willing to check out anything he puts on film since then. It definitely helps that he and his creative team absolutely hustle to create the product they intend, and that in every interview I’ve read with him Cummings seems to be upfront and very respectful about the process of filmmaking and his collaborators. So long story short, the guy has earned a fair amount of goodwill on my part.
That said, The Beta Test was a real departure in many ways from the two previous films I’d seen from him. While the plots are very different, Thunder Road and Wolf of Snow Hollow both star Cummings as police officers who are single fathers struggling with familial responsibility while trying to get by. Both men are, undoubtedly, kind of goobers. But you sense that in their heart they are good guys, and so you root for them to succeed and feel their pain when they don’t.
In The Beta Test, however, the character played by Cummings is a total monster, an agent working in a career that demands more extreme and more cutthroat actions to stay relevant. Jordan believes that he should be successful and powerful, and so as the film goes on we watch him attempt to bend the world around him to what he wants, whether that means pretending to be a federal agent, lying to his fiance, spending money he’s not authorized to use, bullying front desk personnel, or even committing assault. Almost the entire film consists of Jordan flailing----personally, professionally, and within the narrow context of trying to discover the source of the mysterious envelope--and digging himself in deeper and deeper.
I’m not generally a fan of movies about terrible people behaving terribly, but somehow this one kept me along for the ride. It’s probably something to do with proportion: while Jordan is not a good guy, he is the one who suffers the most serious humiliations so that what he inflicts on others feels like it is being instantly punished. Further, against all odds there is more humanity to Jordan than I’d ever have anticipated, and dare I say even something like the beginning of a redemption arc creeping around the edges.
What really keeps the film centered is how overt it is about the way that Jordan and his ilk are sliding into obscurity. One of the themes of the film is exploring the kind of toxic culture that was exposed during the MeToo movement. We see Jordan vent some of his personal frustration by belittling a lower-ranking, young woman employee. In a handful of crucial moments, we slide into her point of view, something that makes Jordan looks like even more of an unpredictable lunatic. Increasingly, Jordan and his friend/co-worker PJ (PJ McCabe, who co-wrote and co-directed) just spout meaningless phrases (“We’re excited! Let’s keep talking!”) and take their angst out on those beneath them. They are driven by greed, and as the digital world makes their job far less critical, they get nasty under the sense of encroaching scarcity.
There are a lot of ideas in this film, and some part of me kind of wishes that it had focused on just one or two of them. One major theme is exploring the world of agents and Hollywood executives in a shifting digital landscape. The old power hierarchies are being restructured---not entirely, of course, but enough that it is making certain formerly-powerful roles borderline useless. We see how the culture of this power structure has deceit, indulgence, and even abuse baked into its core. And I have to say, with his impeccable ability to portray a person who wears a mask of content only to let some radical cracks of despair or anger show, Cummings is the absolute perfect actor to portray a man who must keep up a front of control in the face of more and more outlandish stressors.
But the idea that I found most interesting is the one explored through the mystery envelope plot: how can one live a content life when we are perpetually bombarded with images of bigger and better things. Even someone who is in love with their romantic partner must be aware that they are just a few mouse clicks away from connecting with someone selected for them by an algorithm, someone who might in many ways be more compatible than their current partner. Never has there been a social climate so intent on making you turn your head. And even further, never has it been easier to be tempted toward what you really want: a woman finds a partner who isn’t abusive, a man gets the opportunity to pursue a same-sex affair. The idea that there could be something better is a perpetual haunting, even for someone who isn’t excessively online or social networked.
One of the intriguing questions raised is whether the mystery woman in the hotel is actually a good fit for Jordan. There’s no doubt that they are highly sexually compatible, or at least that the thrill of their liaison is highly arousing to both of them. But would they actually be good partners to one another? Would another sexual encounter, robbed of its novelty, even be as satisfying? There’s no way for Jordan or the audience to be sure of those questions. And as much as Jordan is a horrible person, I could sympathize with his driving need to understand how he came to be chosen for this experience and how he was paired with the mystery woman.
The overall arc of Jordan’s professional unraveling doesn’t quite land for me. Though it does produce some fantastic dialogue (“I don’t want to do this anymore. I f*cking hate the internet. I just want it to be the early 2000s. I want to be young again.”). But the plot about the relentless harvesting of our personal data and the ways that we are manipulated both big and small hit home, despite it falling on a guy who totally deserves a little comeuppance. From the grisly opening sequence, we see that the games being played by the mysterious envelope sender have violent, destructive effects. It’s entirely unsurprising that the body count doesn’t even phase the brains behind the operation.
A bit scattered, yes, but I couldn’t look away. This movie is funny and upsetting and I will continue to follow Cummings wherever he goes.
The Beta Test, 2021
Jordan Hines (Jim Cummings) is a Hollywood agent under constant pressure to broker deals in a toxic workplace where appearing to be successful seems to be most of the battle. On the verge of marrying his fiance, Caroline (Virginia Newcomb), Jordan’s life is thrown into complete disarray when he receives an anonymous letter inviting him to a sexual encounter with a stranger. Jordan goes through with the illicit rendezvous, but his life begins to fall apart in the aftermath as he becomes obsessed with tracking down the woman he slept with and whoever paired them together.
Getting some good mileage out of Cummings demented charisma, this film loses some steam by pulling itself in too many directions, yet holds together in the end.
Jim Cummings absolutely enthralled me with Thunder Road, and I’ve been willing to check out anything he puts on film since then. It definitely helps that he and his creative team absolutely hustle to create the product they intend, and that in every interview I’ve read with him Cummings seems to be upfront and very respectful about the process of filmmaking and his collaborators. So long story short, the guy has earned a fair amount of goodwill on my part.
That said, The Beta Test was a real departure in many ways from the two previous films I’d seen from him. While the plots are very different, Thunder Road and Wolf of Snow Hollow both star Cummings as police officers who are single fathers struggling with familial responsibility while trying to get by. Both men are, undoubtedly, kind of goobers. But you sense that in their heart they are good guys, and so you root for them to succeed and feel their pain when they don’t.
In The Beta Test, however, the character played by Cummings is a total monster, an agent working in a career that demands more extreme and more cutthroat actions to stay relevant. Jordan believes that he should be successful and powerful, and so as the film goes on we watch him attempt to bend the world around him to what he wants, whether that means pretending to be a federal agent, lying to his fiance, spending money he’s not authorized to use, bullying front desk personnel, or even committing assault. Almost the entire film consists of Jordan flailing----personally, professionally, and within the narrow context of trying to discover the source of the mysterious envelope--and digging himself in deeper and deeper.
I’m not generally a fan of movies about terrible people behaving terribly, but somehow this one kept me along for the ride. It’s probably something to do with proportion: while Jordan is not a good guy, he is the one who suffers the most serious humiliations so that what he inflicts on others feels like it is being instantly punished. Further, against all odds there is more humanity to Jordan than I’d ever have anticipated, and dare I say even something like the beginning of a redemption arc creeping around the edges.
What really keeps the film centered is how overt it is about the way that Jordan and his ilk are sliding into obscurity. One of the themes of the film is exploring the kind of toxic culture that was exposed during the MeToo movement. We see Jordan vent some of his personal frustration by belittling a lower-ranking, young woman employee. In a handful of crucial moments, we slide into her point of view, something that makes Jordan looks like even more of an unpredictable lunatic. Increasingly, Jordan and his friend/co-worker PJ (PJ McCabe, who co-wrote and co-directed) just spout meaningless phrases (“We’re excited! Let’s keep talking!”) and take their angst out on those beneath them. They are driven by greed, and as the digital world makes their job far less critical, they get nasty under the sense of encroaching scarcity.
There are a lot of ideas in this film, and some part of me kind of wishes that it had focused on just one or two of them. One major theme is exploring the world of agents and Hollywood executives in a shifting digital landscape. The old power hierarchies are being restructured---not entirely, of course, but enough that it is making certain formerly-powerful roles borderline useless. We see how the culture of this power structure has deceit, indulgence, and even abuse baked into its core. And I have to say, with his impeccable ability to portray a person who wears a mask of content only to let some radical cracks of despair or anger show, Cummings is the absolute perfect actor to portray a man who must keep up a front of control in the face of more and more outlandish stressors.
But the idea that I found most interesting is the one explored through the mystery envelope plot: how can one live a content life when we are perpetually bombarded with images of bigger and better things. Even someone who is in love with their romantic partner must be aware that they are just a few mouse clicks away from connecting with someone selected for them by an algorithm, someone who might in many ways be more compatible than their current partner. Never has there been a social climate so intent on making you turn your head. And even further, never has it been easier to be tempted toward what you really want: a woman finds a partner who isn’t abusive, a man gets the opportunity to pursue a same-sex affair. The idea that there could be something better is a perpetual haunting, even for someone who isn’t excessively online or social networked.
One of the intriguing questions raised is whether the mystery woman in the hotel is actually a good fit for Jordan. There’s no doubt that they are highly sexually compatible, or at least that the thrill of their liaison is highly arousing to both of them. But would they actually be good partners to one another? Would another sexual encounter, robbed of its novelty, even be as satisfying? There’s no way for Jordan or the audience to be sure of those questions. And as much as Jordan is a horrible person, I could sympathize with his driving need to understand how he came to be chosen for this experience and how he was paired with the mystery woman.
The overall arc of Jordan’s professional unraveling doesn’t quite land for me. Though it does produce some fantastic dialogue (“I don’t want to do this anymore. I f*cking hate the internet. I just want it to be the early 2000s. I want to be young again.”). But the plot about the relentless harvesting of our personal data and the ways that we are manipulated both big and small hit home, despite it falling on a guy who totally deserves a little comeuppance. From the grisly opening sequence, we see that the games being played by the mysterious envelope sender have violent, destructive effects. It’s entirely unsurprising that the body count doesn’t even phase the brains behind the operation.
A bit scattered, yes, but I couldn’t look away. This movie is funny and upsetting and I will continue to follow Cummings wherever he goes.