She’s No Hack - Film Review: Cora Bora ★★★1/2
Megan Stalter has emerged as a wholly unique comic presence with her viral “Hi Gay!” videos and her scene stealing role as Kayla on Hacks. The latter, in particular, really has showed off her range with that raw, revealing scene in the 3rd season finale. Still, in everything I’ve seen, she’s cultivated a messy yet overly confident persona who leaves a trail of disaster wherever she goes. With Cora Bora, her first lead role, Stalter gets the chance to give the people what they want while mining those depths even further.
Director Hannah Pearl Utt and writer Rhianon Jones have crafted a small, slice of life, micro budget indie more or less as a showcase for Stalter’s talents. With a meandering, episodic plot and a plethora of supporting characters who mostly do well but have fairly thin material to work with, Stalter still shines. If you can’t get enough of Kayla, this should tide you over quite nicely until Season 4 drops.
Stalter stars as Cora, an aspiring Los Angeles musician with perhaps more bravado than skills. When we first meet her, she performs a lackluster gig, hooks up with a random flat earther (a small but deft turn by Thomas Mann), and keeps getting blown off by her Portland girlfriend Justine (wonderfully portrayed by Jojo T. Gibbs). Suspecting she’s cheating on her, Cora, with her broken guitar case in tow, heads up to Oregon to find out the truth and perhaps find her own voice in the process.
From here, we witness a series of vignettes as Cora tries to steal a first class seat on a plane in a meet-cute with Tom (Manny Jacinto), loses her precious dog, stumbles upon an orgy, and discovers Justine has started a relationship with Riley (Ayden Mayeri, nicely grounded here after her wild performance on the cancelled too soon, I Love That For You). Each encounter seems to fuel Cora with ideas for her songs, such as “Dreams are stupid and so are you for believing in them,” or “Why try and be a better person when dating apps exist?”, and after a while, you come to love her somewhat terrible but endearing point of view. The filmmakers do a lovely job of adding layers to Cora’s character, culminating in a knock-out monologue by Stalter that rings true. Extra points for a truly catchy opening credits song called “Get Out Of My House” by Miya Folick and a vivid montage which perfectly captures the spirit on the film.
I also give credit to the film for its depiction of a bisexual character navigating a deeply flawed open relationship. The ups and downs of it get handled with a rare grace and this storyline shows off her cast at its best. Instead of outright dismissing Cora, Justine and Riley approach this basket case with a real maturity. I only wish some others in the supporting cast were given more to do, with Margaret Cho utterly wasted as almost an extra in an orgy scene. Chelsea Peretti pops up for a moment as a freaked out neighborhood dog owner and she tonally seems to be in a different movie. Glee’s Heather Morris has a sharp turn as an old friend of Cora’s, but her transition from old pal to resentful enemy comes out of nowhere, as if a connective scene had been cut.
Still, Cora Bora offers up a genial shaggy dog story and more than makes the case that Stalter can carry a film with her zany yet off-putting, charm. You may have seen this a thousand times before, but not with a character like Cora at the center. Life may beat her down, but this self-absorbed yet well-meaning wanderer knows how to beat back.
By Glenn Gaylord, Senior Film Critic - The Queer Review
