What’s old is new again

Louis C.K.’s online release of ‘Tomorrow Night’ is an anthropological find

It’s hard to overstate my love of Louis C.K. The comedian, writer and filmmaker is the funniest stand-up act walking the planet; with the success of his hit FX series, “Louie,” we saw his talents behind the camera. A mélange of avant-garde comedy and gallows pathos, everything about the show seems channeled straight from C.K.’s off-kilter imagination. He writes, directs, and (often beautifully) shoots and edits most of the show himself; he’s a jack of all trades and, moreover, a self-taught one. He redefined what television comedy can be.

“Louie,” the show, is essentially a refined version of what we see in C.K.’s “lost” feature-film debut, “Tomorrow Night.”

Made in 1998 (but released for the first time last weekend via C.K.’s website; more on that later), “Tomorrow Night” tells the story of Charles (Chuck Sklar), a camera-store owner with a severe case of OCD and a curmudgeonly aversion to society. Charles is wound tight, as his mailman, Mel (J.B. Smoove), points out. But when the opportunity to get laid presents itself (the offer comes from a married nymphomaniac named Lola Vagina, played by a freakish Heather Morgan), he bolts home instead to get off in his more customary fashion: by sitting in a bowl full of Neopolitan ice cream while listening to ragtime songs.

When enough envelopes of developed film pile up and go unclaimed, the flustered Charles closes his shop and methodically calls his customers, demanding they pick up their pictures.

That’s how he meets Florence (Martha Greenhouse), a geriatric woman married to the insane, psychologically abusive Lester (Joseph Dolphin). When Chuck sees the pristine orderliness of Florence’s apartment, he figures he’s found his soul mate and a real shot at love. Florence wants Chuck to “get rid” of Lester, but that takes care of itself when Lester’s eaten alive by a pack of wild dogs after winning big at the track. Wedding bells ensue.

And lest you think I’ve given it all away, I assure you I haven’t.

To say “Tomorrow Night” is weird would be an understatement (there’s some truly bizarre, free-form shit going on), but that would also sell the film short. C.K. is drawing some clear influences from Woody Allen and John Cassavetes, though they are unevenly filtered through his own nascent, auteur sensibilities.

While reasonably well-directed, only some of “Tomorrow Night” works. The film takes time to acclimatize to, buoyed by episodic rhythms that start out feeling slapdash, only to coalesce into laughs as the narrative (such as it is) eventually reveals itself. Eventually, we get used to the characters. A cruelly funny subplot involving Florence’s idiot son (Gregg Hahn)—who doesn’t realize after 20 years in the Army that his “friends” in the mailroom (a pre-fame Robert Smigel and Steve Carrell) have been throwing his letters to his mom in the trash—comes off like a “M*A*S*H*” homage, if Hawkeye and Trapper were being even bigger dicks to Frank Burns than usual. C.K. is going for the uncomfortable jokes, and he succeeds as much as he fails, though even the material that falls flat is still unique, to say the least.

Filmed by C.K. on 16mm with varying degrees of skill, the look of “Tomorrow Night” is charming on the whole. It feels like a handcrafted labor of love rather than a product. Some shots look lovely, others overexposed. The same level of imperfection applies to the performances. Sklar (recalling John Turturro) is an unfathomable character, though his insularity is weirdly convincing. Meanwhile, J.B. Smoove is trying too hard, laughing it up at his own lines like a bad morning DJ. No one was going for an Oscar, but some of the players work out better than others, particularly among the many young stand-up comics. Todd Barry, Nick DiPaolo, Wanda Sykes, and Conan O’Brien (as himself; he helped get the film finished when C.K. ran out of money) cameo and are more at ease with the camera than their less-nuanced colleagues. The only consistent element is the adept score by composer Neal Sugarman.

But if the anthropology of these performers, and of Louis C.K. in particular, is your thing (and if so, you are my people), then “Tomorrow Night” is something you’ll want to see. It will certainly add to your enjoyment knowing how far these stars have come.

As mentioned, this film is available only at louisck.com as a $5 download. I struggled with whether or not to review it here, since your means of watching “Tomorrow Night” may vary. I’d recommend streaming it to your television from a laptop or tablet, if possible. The fact is, digital distribution is a significant slice of the cinematic landscape now, particularly for small indies. That’s something everyone should get used to.