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Synechdoche, New York (Charlie Kaufman, 2008)
meaty, Holden, and Sexy have already described and discussed their feelings about the film, so I don't find it necessary to rehash what they said about the plot. I will try to briefly explain my first reaction, try to put it in some context and maybe guess about what might happen upon future viewings.
I realize that I should have realized this long ago, but Kaufman is really a gloomy guy. In his first filmed screenplay, Being John Malkovich, directed by Spize Jonze, he depicted a life and a marriage in disarray, and Jonze filmed the beginning mostly seriously and grittily, even though a puppeteer was the main character! This remains my fave Kaufman film because aside from all its originality and cleverness, it's really funny.
I'm going to skip up to Kaufman's last film, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, directed by Michel Gondry, who I'll admit is more of a "romantic" director than Jonze. This film seems to be beloved by many people, but it does have one of the darkest, despairing openings of any film I can remember, and I just don't feel the romantic epiphanies that many others do. What I do see is a highly-creative writer being interpreted by an equally-creative director, but it hits me as just all flash and no substance. I basically feel manipulated and not in an "old-fashioned" way. I've seen Eternal Sunshine only three times and none in the last three years, but I must just be too old a fart to understand its profound appeal. I still believe that everyone should watch it for oneself, but I feel that about most movies which attempt something beyond the boring norm.
Now, I finally get to Synechdoche, New York, where Kaufman can keep his personal vision intact and not worry about others reinterpreting him. As I said, I don't want to retread what the other links said, and I hope you've all read and + repped them, but I do agree that Kaufman's creativity has probably never been so apparent before. He has come up with a rich metaphor about how all people live their lives alone and die on their own. See, I told you he was a gloomy guy! Now, I'll admit that this film may actually be profound, but it also makes you feel like a side of meat being punched by Rocky Balboa. One thing I want to take exception with is that the film is actually that funny. I enjoyed the wicked, but subtle, satire of both how the characters see themselves and how amenable they are to play and be played by others, but to me, it's just more intellectually clever than anything to laugh at. I admit I laughed out loud a couple of times, but that was it.
I'll say that it's definitely weird though, so that should automatically appeal to many people. One of the most bizarre scenes to me, and even if it's a throwaway (I doubt it) is the zeppelin scene. I can't for the life of me remember the context. Was the zeppelin in a scene where it appeared there was a riot or martial law declared? I really didn't find the film that confusing, and I was pretty sure I understood what was going on at most any given moment, but I'll admit that there are multiple layers going on which probably will become more meaningful. It's just whether one believes it's worth seeing the first time, let alone all the additional viewings. I'll be rewatching it when it comes out on DVD, but I won't be going back to the theatre to watch it because I wasn't as impressed with the visuals as meaty was.
One left field comment I'll throw out there is that the film seems to begin and end at about the same time, 7:45. Between the alarm clock at the beginning and the drawn clock on the brick wall at the end, I started to think that maybe the entire two-hour movie was just Philip Seymour Hoffman reliving much of his life at the potential moment of his death. Did anyone notice the thanks to Dustin Hoffman in the end credits? I wonder if that was for Dustin helping to create P.S.
meaty, Holden, and Sexy have already described and discussed their feelings about the film, so I don't find it necessary to rehash what they said about the plot. I will try to briefly explain my first reaction, try to put it in some context and maybe guess about what might happen upon future viewings.
I realize that I should have realized this long ago, but Kaufman is really a gloomy guy. In his first filmed screenplay, Being John Malkovich, directed by Spize Jonze, he depicted a life and a marriage in disarray, and Jonze filmed the beginning mostly seriously and grittily, even though a puppeteer was the main character! This remains my fave Kaufman film because aside from all its originality and cleverness, it's really funny.
I'm going to skip up to Kaufman's last film, Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, directed by Michel Gondry, who I'll admit is more of a "romantic" director than Jonze. This film seems to be beloved by many people, but it does have one of the darkest, despairing openings of any film I can remember, and I just don't feel the romantic epiphanies that many others do. What I do see is a highly-creative writer being interpreted by an equally-creative director, but it hits me as just all flash and no substance. I basically feel manipulated and not in an "old-fashioned" way. I've seen Eternal Sunshine only three times and none in the last three years, but I must just be too old a fart to understand its profound appeal. I still believe that everyone should watch it for oneself, but I feel that about most movies which attempt something beyond the boring norm.
Now, I finally get to Synechdoche, New York, where Kaufman can keep his personal vision intact and not worry about others reinterpreting him. As I said, I don't want to retread what the other links said, and I hope you've all read and + repped them, but I do agree that Kaufman's creativity has probably never been so apparent before. He has come up with a rich metaphor about how all people live their lives alone and die on their own. See, I told you he was a gloomy guy! Now, I'll admit that this film may actually be profound, but it also makes you feel like a side of meat being punched by Rocky Balboa. One thing I want to take exception with is that the film is actually that funny. I enjoyed the wicked, but subtle, satire of both how the characters see themselves and how amenable they are to play and be played by others, but to me, it's just more intellectually clever than anything to laugh at. I admit I laughed out loud a couple of times, but that was it.
I'll say that it's definitely weird though, so that should automatically appeal to many people. One of the most bizarre scenes to me, and even if it's a throwaway (I doubt it) is the zeppelin scene. I can't for the life of me remember the context. Was the zeppelin in a scene where it appeared there was a riot or martial law declared? I really didn't find the film that confusing, and I was pretty sure I understood what was going on at most any given moment, but I'll admit that there are multiple layers going on which probably will become more meaningful. It's just whether one believes it's worth seeing the first time, let alone all the additional viewings. I'll be rewatching it when it comes out on DVD, but I won't be going back to the theatre to watch it because I wasn't as impressed with the visuals as meaty was.
One left field comment I'll throw out there is that the film seems to begin and end at about the same time, 7:45. Between the alarm clock at the beginning and the drawn clock on the brick wall at the end, I started to think that maybe the entire two-hour movie was just Philip Seymour Hoffman reliving much of his life at the potential moment of his death. Did anyone notice the thanks to Dustin Hoffman in the end credits? I wonder if that was for Dustin helping to create P.S.