There’s a stereotype that a vast majority of American independent films, most of them by debut filmmakers, can be reduced in their descriptions to a “road trip dramedy” about two characters learning more about one another during the course of an unpredictable journey. It’s the type of film that’s easy to make due to the sparsity of locations, scattered across multiple states, and can be even easier to forgive. It’s hard to hate a film so modest in its intentions, especially if the central performances are charming. “Hot Water” isn’t the last film to work through this formula, but it’s so safe that it’s hard to distinguish it amongst its many predecessors.
While on its surface, there’s little that’s incompetent about “Hot Water,” the film’s refusal to go any deeper makes for a frustrating experience. “Hot Water” follows Professor Layal (Lubna Azabal), who teaches language at Indiana University, amidst a personal crisis in which she learns that her mother is seriously injured. Layal has been divorced and fought through bouts of depression (even if the word is never outwardly satiated), and would have already had enough on her plate if she hadn’t also had to deal with her troublesome teenage son, Daniel (Daniel Zolghadr).
Daniel has been held back in school several times already, but a violent brawl with a fellow hockey player threatens to get him expelled. Layal grows increasingly concerned that Daniel will not graduate, but a solution presents itself when she discusses the situation with her ex-husband, Anton (Gabe Fazio). He offers to take care of Daniel at his place in Santa Cruz, where Daniel can complete the year and graduate.
To transport Daniel to his father, Layal must drive him to a halfway point in Colorado where he can be exchanged. Given that this is a mother-son bonding experience that takes a few unexpected turns (which aren’t that surprising for those who have any familiarity with this subgenre), Layal and Daniel take a slightly more complex journey than they initially imagined, and end up learning more about one another as a result.
It’s hard to doubt the earnestness of debut writer/director Ramzi Bashour, who certainly casts the western vistas of America in a gorgeous light. Unfortunately, there’s so little substance to the conflict between the characters that none of the overtly predictable misadventures they go upon spark anything deeper.
Layal is initially presented as a somewhat hostile, stressed-out character who is at her wits’ end, and she’s ultimately little more than that. While the implication is that her overtly defensive remarks are a result of the anxiety she feels about her mother’s health, the connection between the two is never deepened beyond a few heartfelt phone calls.
Azabal is a performer of authenticity who can produce naturalistic responses to the situations she gets herself into, but the character’s emotional range rarely goes beyond mild annoyance or subtle bemusement. Any interiority regarding her career in education, and how it might feel to have a son who has flunked his own schooling, isn’t interrogated. Similarly, the role that language itself plays within the life and culture of a Lebanese family is unremarked upon, despite the ample opportunities that might come from an exploration of the American frontier.

The reason to see “Hot Water” is the breakout performance by Zolghadr, whose winning charisma and affable persona are almost able to imply more nuance to a character that isn’t as fleshed out on the page. Zolghadr has been a rising talent who excelled in brief roles in “Lurker,” “Y2K,” and last year’s “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You,” and he crafts an astute portrayal of a young man who is at the last stage of any sort of childhood innocence.
Still, “Hot Water” doesn’t get into any of the pressing threats of not graduating, his parents’ split, or the next stage of his life. The implication that there might be a violent side to Daniel is only briefly used to create tension, and is ultimately mellowed out because of the film’s inability to add any flaws within the character that can’t immediately be forgiven.
The predicaments that Daniel and Layal stumble into are largely routine. Between an unusual hitchhiker, an awkward tour guide, and a few seedy motel homes, “Hot Water” seems unbothered by the cliches it adheres to. The complexities of race, economics, class, and tradition seem to linger in the background without being commented on.
The side characters that Daniel and Layal are introduced to can’t necessarily be considered caricatures because they don’t function as anything other than distractions. “Hot Water” is never unpleasurable to watch, as Zolghadar and Azabal have consistently great chemistry, but the emotional beats are so easy to anticipate that even the earnest performances fail to register.
The choice to make a neo-realist film, especially when compared to how many indies could be accused of overstylization, is occasionally interesting, especially since “Hot Water” is rather frank in its observations about the routine nature of life. However, the depiction of various stretches of road, worn-down diners, and shallow creeks seems to only serve as a backdrop for the prototypical central dynamic. The environments don’t feel like a parable that says something about the time and place, which becomes an issue when they take up so much screen time.
The few deviations “Hot Water” takes from the expected occur within the climactic encounter with Anton, which swings in a vastly different tonal direction that is interesting, if nothing else. It’s the type of twist that may have been more thought-provoking had it been given ample room to linger, but unfortunately only serves as an extended prelude to the more sentimental conclusion.
There’s nothing malicious within “Hot Water,” and at times, it can be quite truthful. However, it represents a growing sameness within America’s independent film scene, which may point to why the market has grown so stale. Limitations can provoke creativity, and “Hot Water” feels apprehensive about making the sort of creative decisions that incite anything other than immediate reactions.
