Movies usually try too hard. They want to give you a grand moral, a massive explosion, or a perfectly tied-up romance that makes you feel like life actually makes sense. But life in a city like New York doesn't make sense. It’s cluttered. It’s loud. It’s full of people who are just kind of drifting into each other's orbits without any clear "plot" guiding them. That is exactly why the Person to Person movie works so well, even years after its 2017 release.
Dustin Guy Defa, the director, basically took the DNA of 16mm indie filmmaking and injected it with a weird, soulful energy that feels less like a film and more like overhearing a conversation on the subway. If you've ever spent a Tuesday afternoon wondering why you’re obsessed with a specific rare vinyl record or why your roommate is acting like a total weirdo, this movie is for you. It doesn't scream. It whispers. It’s a series of vignettes that shouldn't work together, but somehow, they do.
The Analog Soul of a Digital World
Shooting on 16mm wasn't just a hipster choice for Defa. It was essential. The grain of the film captures a version of New York that feels lived-in, dusty, and honest. You can almost smell the old paper in the record shops. The Person to Person movie follows a handful of characters over the course of a single day. There’s Bene Coopersmith—playing a version of himself—who is desperately trying to track down a rare Charlie Parker record. Then you have Abbi Jacobson as a trainee investigative reporter who is clearly having the worst first day of work in human history.
There is a specific rhythm here. It's slow. Not "boring" slow, but "real life" slow.
Most ensemble films, like Love Actually or Crash, try to force these characters to meet in some "fate-driven" way. Defa doesn't do that. He’s smarter than that. He knows that in a city of eight million people, you don't always get a neat resolution. Sometimes you just walk past someone and that’s the end of the story. The Person to Person movie leans into that fragmentation. Michael Cera plays a frantic, slightly overbearing news editor who is obsessed with a potential murder case involving a clock shop owner. It sounds like a thriller, right? Wrong. It’s played for the awkward, stuttering reality of amateur journalism. Cera is great at being uncomfortable, and here, he’s at his peak.
Why Bene Coopersmith is the Secret Weapon
If you haven't seen Bene Coopersmith on screen, you're missing out on one of the most natural performances in modern indie cinema. He isn't a "trained actor" in the traditional sense, and it shows in the best way possible. He moves through the world with this strange, rhythmic confidence. His quest for the record isn't about the music, really. It's about the hunt. It’s about the community of people who care about things that the rest of the world has forgotten.
When he realizes he might have been scammed, he doesn't have a cinematic breakdown. He just deals with it. He talks to people. He navigates the streets. It’s a very specific kind of New York energy—the guy who knows everyone but is still somehow an outsider. Honestly, watching him ride a bicycle through the city is more entertaining than most Marvel action sequences.
Dealing With the "Nothing Happens" Critique
People often complain that in the Person to Person movie, nothing happens. I get it. If you want a three-act structure with a clear hero’s journey, you’re going to be frustrated. But to say "nothing happens" is to miss the point of observational cinema.
A lot happens.
- A teenager (played by Tavi Gevinson) grapples with the crushing weight of existential boredom and the shifting dynamics of her friendships.
- A man tries to apologize for a mistake he made in a moment of weakness, realizing that "sorry" doesn't always fix the vibe.
- A reporter learns that the "big scoop" is often just a sad story about lonely people.
These are small moments, but they are the moments that actually make up a life. Defa is heavily influenced by directors like John Cassavetes and even the French New Wave, where the atmosphere is the story. The film is a love letter to the "shaggy dog" story. It wanders. It takes detours. It stops to look at a bird or a clock.
The Cast That Makes it Fly
The casting here is low-key brilliant. You’ve got Philip Baker Hall—a legend—appearing in what would be one of his final roles. Seeing him interact with the younger cast creates this bridge between the "Old New York" of the 70s and the gentrified, strange version we see today.
Then there’s Abbi Jacobson. Most people know her from Broad City, where she’s loud and hilarious. In the Person to Person movie, she’s quiet. She’s internal. She’s playing a character who is deeply unsure of herself, pushed into a world of "hard-nosed" reporting that she isn't sure she wants to be a part of. Her chemistry with Michael Cera is built on friction. He’s trying to be a mentor; she’s just trying to survive the afternoon without a panic attack.
And we have to talk about George Sample III. His storyline is perhaps the most melancholy. He plays a man who has done something he regrets—leaking intimate photos of an ex—and is trying to navigate the fallout. It’s a heavy topic for a movie that feels so breezy, but Defa handles it with a weirdly empathetic lens. It doesn't excuse the behavior, but it looks at the messy, pathetic reality of human failure.
Technical Craft: 16mm and Sound Design
The look of this film is everything. Cinematographer Ashley Connor used Arriflex cameras and Kodak stock to give it that "found footage from 1975" feel. But the cars are modern. The phones are modern. This juxtaposition creates a timelessness. It suggests that while technology changes, the way we interact—person to person—remains fundamentally awkward and difficult.
The sound design is equally intentional. The city isn't a roar; it’s a collection of distinct noises. A door creaking. A needle dropping on a record. The sound of footsteps on a hardwood floor. It’s intimate. It forces you to lean in.
Misconceptions and Reality Checks
A common misconception is that this is a "mumblecore" movie. While it shares some traits with that movement—low budget, conversational dialogue, non-professional actors—it’s actually much more composed than your average mumblecore flick. Every shot is framed with intent. There is a visual language here that is much more sophisticated than just "pointing a camera at people talking."
Another thing people get wrong is thinking it’s a comedy. It has funny moments, sure. But it’s more of a "vibe" movie. It’s a mood piece. If you go in expecting to laugh every five minutes, you’ll be disappointed. But if you go in wanting to feel like you’ve spent a day in Brooklyn without actually having to pay $18 for a cocktail, you’re in luck.
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How to Actually Watch This Movie
Don't watch it on your phone while scrolling through TikTok. You'll hate it. This isn't "content." It’s a film that requires you to sync your heartbeat to its pace.
- Turn off the lights. The 16mm grain looks better in the dark.
- Listen to the soundtrack. The music is curated with an obsessive level of detail.
- Ignore your phone. The whole point of the movie is human connection, or the lack thereof.
- Accept the lack of closure. Life doesn't have an ending; it just has a "next day."
What We Can Learn From the Person to Person Movie
In a world of hyper-polished, AI-generated, algorithm-driven entertainment, the Person to Person movie feels like an act of rebellion. It’s a reminder that humans are weird. We are inefficient. We spend too much time looking for records and not enough time talking about our feelings.
The film teaches us that the "small" stories are the ones that actually matter. The way a stranger looks at you in a shop. The way a friend lets you down. The way you try to be better tomorrow. It’s a quiet masterpiece of observation.
If you’re a filmmaker, study how Defa uses space. If you’re a writer, listen to how he captures the rhythm of real speech—the "ums," the "likes," the trailing-off sentences. If you’re just someone who likes movies, watch it to remind yourself that cinema can still be small and personal.
Next Steps for the Interested Viewer:
- Research the Soundtrack: The soul and jazz tracks in the film aren't just background noise; they are the heart of the movie. Look up the tracklist and listen to the full albums.
- Explore 16mm Indie Cinema: If you liked the look of this film, check out the works of the Safdie Brothers (Daddy Longlegs) or Sean Baker (The Florida Project), who also prioritize texture and realism over polish.
- Practice Observation: Next time you’re in a crowded place, put your headphones away. Listen to the fragments of conversation around you. That’s the "script" of the world we actually live in.
- Support Local Record Stores: In the spirit of Bene, go find a physical shop. Buy something you’ve never heard of. Talk to the person behind the counter. Have a person-to-person interaction that isn't mediated by a screen.