3 Backyards

Helmer-writer Eric Mendelsohn returns with his first feature in a decade and the proposition that art film still has a place in the world -- which is an exhilarating idea, especially as represented by 3 Backyards, an exquisite example of calculated execution in pursuit of elusive ideas.

It's worth remembering that eleven years passed between "Judy Berlin" and 3 Backyards, both of which earned Mendelsohn best director prizes at Sundance.

Mendelsohn's first film since 1999's "Judy Berlin" is devoted to finding descriptive correlatives to liminal emotional states through the cast's eloquent reaction shots and the camera's depiction of homely environments - with ornate, flowing visual vocabulary.

The movie has none of the smugness of "­American Beauty": You could dream of living in a world like this.

Well-acted and acutely observed.

Smartly observed and precisely visualized, 3 Backyards is nonetheless a bore: We never care for any of the characters and their lives of "quiet desperation."

From the insistently discordant score to each overthought shot, this triad of stories feels self-conscious and deliberately arty rather than heartfelt.