Important Things with Demetri Martin is a stream-of-consciousness
Comedy Central sketch and variety show from multi-hyphenate Demetri Martin. Each episode focuses on a single topic
as filtered through the prism of Martin’s unique point-of-view,
encompassing quick-hit sketches, sketchboard-assisted written jokes,
low-fi animation and dryly delivered stand-up. “Timing,” for instance
includes sketches about a man who uses time travel to meet women as
well as an actor with terrible timing, while “Games” includes a bit
about an “emotional escape artist” who finds the tables turned on him
when he attempts to end a relationship.

Martin, who dropped out of law school to pursue comedy, swinging to a position as a staff writer on Late Night with Conan O’Brien, has the look of a most affable Jewish Muppet, and a top-shelf touch with absurdist deadpan humor to boot. His “Trendspotting” has been an occasional featured segment on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart since late 2005, and he’s lined up acting and screenwriting jobs that undeniably mark him as an emerging multiple-threat talent. The promos for Important Things, though, won me over with their delicious embrace of offbeat simplicity; pointing to a hand-drawn picture of a windowless van, Martin said, “When vans first arrived, I bet creeps were like, ‘Yeah! OK…'” That sort of canted humor gets a solid workout in this engaging and amusing series, which cycles through jokes at a just-right pace that doesn’t wear out its premise or conceit. H. Jon Benjamin provides frequent sketch support, and David Cross, Amanda Peet and John Oliver also pop up in cameos.

Housed in a regular, white plastic Amaray case, the seven first season episodes of Important Things with Demetri Martin comes to DVD presented in 1.33:1 full screen, with a Dolby digital stereo audio track. Included in the packaging are a mini-poster and sticker for the series. Its special features consist of four audio commentaries with Martin and his co-creators on the show, pegged to the episodes “Timing,” “Power,” “Coolness” and “Games.” In the chats, Martin and company talk in fairly laconic fashion about the series moving away from concrete point-of-emphasis topics (“Chairs” being the show’s pilot) and more into the conceptual realm.

Hand-sketched production graphs and sketch line-ups are curios, nothing more. More substantively, there is also a clutch of deleted sketches, 10 in all, with additional audio commentary. This material runs the gamut, from goofy outtakes from a “Parking Wars” bit and the musically rooted “Killing Someone with Kindness” (sample advice: “Beat them with a mix tape,” or, “Help them move… into a haunted house”) to the thumbnail sketch “A Yellow Belt Breaks an Awkward Silence,” which is exactly what it sounds like, but nonetheless quite amusing. A long, three-minute version of “Cult Leader in Love” (used heavily in the show’s promotion on Comedy Central) is included, which Martin correctly identifies and breaks down as problematic. Other bits, especially a mock safety instruction using a CPR dummy, come off as flat as well. Overall, this material is more miss than hit, but hey, that’s why it was excised to begin with, and Martin and company are upfront about owning up to why they feel the material doesn’t work. That’s somewhat refreshing, and maybe even important. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. B+ (Show) B (Disc)

Detailing four interconnected stories revolving around love, drugs,
poverty and modern ennui, Explicit Ills unfolds chiefly amidst a bunch
of rundown tenements in a boarded-up, bombed-out area of
Philadelphia. So drab and depressing is its setting that it seems like
the movie, the feature writing and directing debut of young actor Mark
Webber, could be alternately titled American Shantytown. Lyrical,
earnest and well photographed, Explicit Ills is ultimately more
intriguing than good; its narrative is so meandering and its grip so
loose that one loses interest a bit less than halfway through its
90-minute running time.

The intertwined stories? Seven-year-old asthmatic Babo (Francisco Burgos) lives with his mother (Rosario Dawson) in the badlands of North Philly. His slightly older teen neighbor Demetri (Martin Cepeda), who makes moves on a girl by approaching her and asking if she wants to kiss him tomorrow, methodically a more bookish persona in order to try get the girl. Michelle (Frankie Shaw), a well-off art student, falls into a drug induced love affair with her dealer Jacob (Lou Taylor Pucci, above). The marriage of Kaleef (Tariq Trotter, of The Roots) and Jill (Naomie Harris) suffers tension as they pursue their dreams of bringing “produce to the people,” while their lanky teenage son Heslin (Ross Kim-McManus) improbably focuses on heading to Jamaica to compete in the World’s Strongest Man competition. Around the periphery, meanwhile, floats would-be actor Rocco (There Will Be Blood‘s Paul Dano).

Webber draws upon his personal relationships to help round out the cast (several of the actors are past costars), and his obviously collaborative approach yields some quiet, sensitive work. What’s most interesting about Explicit Ills is the manner in which individual scenes subtly undercut one’s expectation about where they’re headed. Also somewhat engagingly, Webber proves himself the rare first-time filmmaker who doesn’t overwrite; he’s much more interested in crafting mood (additional props to cinematographer Patrice Lucien Cochet’s inquisitive camerawork, and Michael Hersey’s art direction) than pushing forward a specific narrative agenda, either collectively or individually. In this regard, his movie variously recalls works like George Washington, Raising Victor Vargas and/or Jim McKay’s underrated Our Song.

Unfortunately, Explicit Ills suffers in comparison to all of these films, and its putative multicultural macro lesson — in which disparate individuals stumble toward connection with one another as they try to circumvent the isolating influences of homogeny and drug use, and draw together as a community — is tied together awkwardly in the third act, and doesn’t connect in a strong enough, emotionally resonant manner to really hold one’s attention. Notwithstanding some wholly invested performances and, again, an impressively atypical artistic instinct for a filmmaker of Webber’s age, Explicit Ills slots as more of an interesting misfire than a must-rent for one’s Netflix list.

Presented in 2.35.1 widescreen, which preserves the original aspect ratio of its March theatrical exhibition, Explicit Ills comes to DVD in a regular plastic Amaray case. A clutch of deleted scenes were touted in the original home video announcement for the movie, but the disc’s only bonus features are the theatrical trailer and some text-screen information on social activism issues raised in the movie. The film is also available on Blu-ray in 2.35:1 widescreen in 1080p. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here. C- (Movie) D (Disc)