Trueba’s Haunted Heart

Among reed players, clarinetists are considered somewhat nebbish, like Benny Goodman and Pee Wee Russell. Maybe that is why Max keeps his former musician identity a secret. However, his new hostess, Alex, develops an interest in him, which blossoms into a curiosity regarding his past. He obviously does not want to tell, so she probably should not ask, but she does anyway in Fernando Trueba’s Haunted Heart, which just released in theaters and on VOD.

When Alex shows up a week late for work at Max’s seasonal Greek isle destination restaurant, she must settle for a server position. Yet, despite her Millennial meltdown and his Gen X contempt, they still share a mutual attraction. She constantly milks his veteran wait-staff for intel, but all they know is that Max keeps himself to himself.

As the summer passes into the less busy fall, Alex moves into the hostess position she originally applied for, and into Max’s island home. However, as she pokes around, she finds strange clues to his murky history, including a 45 recorded by Paul Frye. Chico, her torch-carrying admirer, is happy track down the mysterious musician, who looks exactly like Max on his obscure LP.

Haunted Heart will deeply annoy jazz fans, in much the same way as Spielberg’s The Terminal, in that jazz plays a significant role in the film, but only holds a minor, almost incidental place in the soundtrack. We do hear “Christine Noir” & “Old Haunts,” two Frye recordings composed by Michael Philip Mossman, featuring Ken Peplowski on clarinet, with a rhythm section of David Berkman, David Wang, and Aaron Kimmel. Both tunes sound great from what we get to hear, which isn’t very much.

The rest of soundtrack consists of orchestral themes composed by Zbigniew Preisner (Kieslowski’s Thee Colors), which sound decidedly symphonic, but features brief saxophone solos (or obligatos) from Jerzy Glowczewski. Indeed, it is surprising (and disappointing), Trueba would allow the watering down of the jazz, considering he helmed the terrific jazz-focused films They Shot the Piano Player, Chico & Rita, and Calle 54.

Arguably, Trueba was consistently out of synch and off the beat throughout Haunted Heart. The slow build-up lasts about ninety non-thrillerish minutes. Only the last thirty minutes or so really give suspenseful vibes, but the mood is still undermined by forced contrivances. Frankly, it is hard to believe the way events nose-dive, when a little bit of communication might have avoided so much trouble.

Still, Matt Dillon is appropriately and intriguingly strong and silent as Max. Having seen him frequent LP shops in New York, it is easy to speculate how a character with Max’s backstory might appeal to him. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, the execution is too flat and too slack. It hardly helps that Aida Folch just doesn’t click as Alex, who is supposed to be both naïve and seductive. However, Folch does not fully convince on either score.

Fans of foodie cinema should also note Trueba shows little interest in Max’s culinary output, even when he romances Alex with a late-night dinner. It is yet another lost opportunity, amongst several. At least cinematographer Sergio Ivan Castano makes the most of the picturesque Mediterranean backdrops. It is still not enough to recommend Haunted Heart, which is now playing at the Laemmle Monica Film Center.