Benten Films‘ second superbly-packaged DVD set (they previously released Joe Swanberg’s LOL) hits stores today. The set includes two films directed by Aaron Katz: Dance Party, USA, a kind of correction to Larry Clark’s KIDS, set in Portland and starring exquisitely natural local teens; and the Independent Spirit Award-nominated Quiet City, which I previously reviewed here. Both films are about a young boy and girl who venture out into urban spaces looking for an authentic experience. What sets them apart from traditional coming-of-age stories is, in part, the patience Katz shows in allowing his characters to take the time to settle into a tentative trust together. The films are both languid and totally economical; in terms of action, virtually nothing “happens,” and yet if there’s any fat to cut on either, I can’t find it.

In Dance Party, we follow Gus, a teenage lothario whose sexual exploits seem rooted in a need to have a kernel of truth on which to base the elaborate stories with which he regales his friend/protege Bill, to a Fourth of July house party. Within minutes, Gus has talked a previously unknown girl into bed, but when that’s over––Katz cuts straight from the initiation of the flirtation to Gus rolling off the anonymous female like a cold wave––he still needs someone to talk to.

He ambles into Jessica, the friend of a former conquest. Jessica is quiet, skeptical and sincere, and this is mistaken by her socially eager acquaintences as bitchery. One flirtatious party guest is unable or unwilling to believe that her greasy yellow hair is naturally blonde––”natural” is not in it yet for these kids. So when Gus, in desperate need of a connection, strikes up a conversation with Jessica, she immediately assumes he, like everyone else at the party, is first and foremost looking to hook up, and cuts him off before he can try. Confronted with the harsh reality of how virtual strangers actually see him, Gus makes a confession that should be all rights confirm Jessica’s low opinion of him. Instead, it instigates the first instance of substantial, unbroken eye contact in the film. “Do you want to go somewhere?” she asks.

Like Dance Party, Quiet City is about romantically amenable strangers achieving a rhythym together––conversationally, physically––but rather than find that ryhtym in isolation, it’s when Jamie and Charlie are immersed in a group that it not only becomes apparent that Something is Happening, but that they’re able to gain access to information about the other that has been thus far conveniently hidden. Sweet, golden-hued, and chaste where Dance Party is raw, unsentimental and explicit, in Quiet City Getting to Know You becomes a party game, and a literal dance party offers the closest thing to a corporeal connection.

If Dance Party is a story of bad behavior leading to redemption, Quiet City depicts a moment of idyllic peace, and in-between space where, to paraphrase Charlie, it’s possible to “slink around” on the hope that something will happen, before having to actually deal with it happening. It’s easy to critique either film for being slight, and it may be reasonable to assume that these movies may not work for anyone who can’t remember what it felt like to be 17 or 24, and/or to have their lives changed in a matter of hours by a crush. But I would say that anyone who can’t tap into that kind of feeling, even on a superficial level, has more pressing matters to attend to than shopping for DVDs.