Geremy Jasper’s “O’Dessa” is an earnest misfire, an original rock musical that the “Patti Cake$” director claimed, in his introduction at SXSW, he had been working on for seven years. Watching it, though, it bears all the hallmarks of something that was originally conceived in high school, possibly even earlier. It’s a YA fiction project in George Miller clothes, a movie that never digs below the surface of any of its characters, refuses to build out its world, and can’t comprise a catchy tune. I’m a big fan of big swings, and I admire Jasper and his team for sticking with something this unusual through to the bitter end. But that doesn’t mean that any of this works for anyone else. When artists get so involved with a world they only see in their heads and characters they have cared about for years, they can struggle to transfer that love to viewers. I don’t doubt that Jasper and his team love the story of O’Dessa. I never did.
Sadie Sink plays the title character, a young woman in a post-apocalyptic world of scavengers and violence that has a bit of “Mad Max” or “Repo! The Genetic Opera” energy (but never feels as three-dimensional). O’Dessa’s father was a “rambler,” someone who wandered the land with his magical guitar, using his music to “comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” When he died, the guitar made its way back to O’Dessa, who heads out after her mother’s passing to fulfill a prophecy. She is the “seventh son,” the troubadour who will inspire the people of this future to find a brighter one. That is literally her one defining personality trait. She is the chosen one and character development beyond was never considered, leading to a striking lack of personality in what should be a story of a captivating savior.
It’s not long before O’Dessa’s guitar is stolen by a group of wanderers (led by Mark Boone Junior), forcing her to go to the city to retrieve it. She ends up falling into the world of a vicious enforcer named Neon Dion (a wasted Regina Hall, channeling a bit of Tina Turner’s Aunty Entity with her outfits and cadence), who works an entertainment venue that’s headlined by a singer named Euri Dervish (Kelvin Harrison Jr.). Here’s where “O’Dessa” starts to fall apart. Is Euri a star? A victim? Why is it impossible to make out what he’s actually singing? The truth is that he’s just a cog in the plot machine, a love interest for O’Dessa, but their romance is vapid and empty. I don’t blame the performers, but it has to be impossible to develop chemistry when you’ve been given such shallow characters.
Everything about the messaging and plotting of “O’Dessa” is shallow. The songs that O’Dessa sings to launch the revolution are forgettable ditties about “love” and “freedom” in a film that doesn’t define or illustrate either. One of the recurring lyrics is literally “free, free, free, free,” and another is a variation on “love is all you need.” Shallow messages expressed in a heartfelt manner aren’t necessarily a problem for a musical, but that requires the other stuff—character, world-building, stakes, etc.—to be deeper to allow the universal themes to cut through. Nothing here has any teeth; nothing hits the heart.
It may be a product of a low budget, but “O’Dessa” also suffers visually. Its greatest inspiration appears to be “Max Headroom” as the plot culminates on a TV show run by a ruthless entertainer turned leader named Plutonovich (Murray Bartlett, the only one who seems to be having any fun during this production). A reality star turned tyrant might seem like a place that “O’Dessa” could come to life and have something to say, but even that opportunity is wasted in a script that seems to almost defiantly not have anything on its mind beyond love and freedom. Yes, great musicals have been built on “the power of love” before. But pulling that off requires something this movie never has: a heartbeat.
This review was filed from the world premiere at the SXSW Film Festival. It premieres on Hulu on March 20th.
