Slamdance 2024: ‘Love and Work’ Review
A lot of people have dreams of eventually retiring and finally finding the time to do whatever they please. There are even dreams of a fully automated world, where robots and AI will do everything and our time is free for us to do whatever we please. However, it all feels more and more unattainable as people work just to barely make ends meet, with the dream of retirement seeming further and further out of the realm of possibility, and automation not shaping up to be the clean answer it purports to be. So in the end, what are some of us working towards when we can’t even imagine the reward of relaxation? It’s the kind of question that comes to mind frequently throughout Pete Ohs’ latest film, Love and Work, which imagines a world where jobs are illegal and all of humankind is given the free time to do whatever they desire - so long as it isn’t work. A dystopian vision of utopian hopes, Ohs presents a clever, humorous thought exercise that is playful just as much as it is relevant.
Shot in black-and-white by Ohs - who also serves as co-writer, producer, and editor, in addition to directing - every frame in Love and Work has this feeling of misery. Concrete buildings and barren playgrounds only accentuate the desperation people are facing as they try to find some form of happiness. Now with police cracking down on people performing jobs, Diane (Stephanie Hunt) has to move discretely if she doesn’t want to get caught. She finds a job making shoes, where she meets and falls in love with Fox (Will Madden). Their time together as cobblers is cut short once the police discover the job’s existence, forcing the two to continue the hunt for another job while trying to balance their newfound love for each other.
There’s a folksy charm to Love and Work that endears the audience to its bleak world bolstered by original songs by Charles Watson that are peppered throughout Diane and Fox’s job hunt. It’s what complements the relationship between the two souls drifting in and out of work, navigating the underground network of recruiters (or toothpicks, as they’re codenamed) that can ferry them to their next distraction. Even the jobs they take feel very blue-collar, representing the kind of work that is often discussed as being automated in the future. Here, it’s the exact work that serves no purpose to society - a robot can already do it, so why waste your time doing it when you can be having fun?
What’s satisfying about Ohs’ film, which is co-written by Hunt and Madden, is that it opens with the hypothetical that we all look towards and it singles out two people who society would deem as “weird” for wanting to work when they can just take up a hobby instead. From there, it’s able to confront the purpose of having a job, outside of making ends meet. As Diane remarks, “If I’m not working towards something, then what am I doing?” Ohs deconstructs the notion of complete freedom and ponders just how long that happiness would last, but does so understanding how humans already use their free time.
Not everything is as thought-provoking as Love and Work’s central thesis, but nothing is necessarily out-of-place either. The relationship between Diane and Fox feels very minor, but it helps give the film’s narrative more cohesion and keeps it grounded with an endearing sense of discovery. It’s two people working towards their own personal satisfaction while ensuring the other is as happy as they can be. The juggling act is part of the charm and may not seem as vital on the surface, but thematically it adds a layer of nuance that would otherwise be wanting. The chemistry between Hunt and Madden goes a long way toward making the slight nature of their journey together far more engaging and wholesome.
At an extremely brisk runtime of 74 minutes, Love and Work is economical in all the right ways without feeling overstuffed. Its got a breeziness to its pacing and rhythm to its dialogue that settles nicely within the folk song-demeanor it carries throughout. For as dystopian as it feels, Ohs maintains a hopeful tune to it all. It can sometimes be difficult to position yourself on the same wavelength as Love and Work. However, it’s so carefully and cleverly constructed in its questioning of what we really want from the future that it finds an equilibrium difficult to argue against when seeking purpose with our time.
The 2024 edition of the Slamdance Film Festival marks the 30th anniversary of the festival, taking place between January 19th and 28th.
