Synechdoche, NY

Charlie Kaufman is one crazy motherfucker. In this, his directorial debut, he creates a labyrinthine story of...well...everything. This movie is about art. It's about marriage. It's about death. It's about getting old. It's about the relationship between father and child. It's about how, in a massive city, hell, in the entire world, our little lives mean little to nothing in the long run. It's about loss. It's about meaning. It's about finding meaning in everything you do in your life, and how, for most of us, that's a fruitless endeavour. At least, that's what I think it's about.

This isn't a film for those who don't know Kaufman's previous works; the people who like this movie will probably be the people who have followed the writer for years, and are the people who know they're going to like his films. Kaufman the writer explores themes that few other writers explore, and does so in what can only be described as a quirky, wierd way that often blends genres (Being John Malkovich is a sci-fi fantasy disguised as a study in relationship...which it happens to be at the same time; Confessions of A Dangerous Mind is a thriller/biography/satire; etc.) Kaufman is one of the cold artists of film: someone who's next project will always have an audience. Like Tarantino. Or David Fincher. Or any James Bond movie. It's rare today that he happens to be a cold writer (like Paul Schrader was in the 1970's).

Philip Seymour Hoffman stars as Caden Cotard, a theatre director whose revival of "Death of A Salesman" has garnered exemplory reviews from his critics, the adoration of his cast and crew, and which wins him the Macarthur Genius Grant and several million dollars to fund his next project. But his health is failing, with his pupils failing to dialate properly, his gums being infected, strange sores appearing on his body, and nervous shakes occurring, amongst other things (he takes hypnotherapy classes to teach himself how to induce salivation and crying). He witnesses his life fall apart just as his genius is recognized by everyone else except his wife, Adele (played by the always amazing character actor Catherine Keener). She is an artist all her own, specializing in miniature portraits (which need to be viewed with special magnifying eyeglasses). Busy with a exhibition in Germany, she leaves for what starts as a month, but eventually escalates into years, taking young daughter Olive with her. Caden, unfettered, prepares his magnum opus, a play about life, about failure...about everything. Full scale. With a full-scale reproduction of New York built within a massive warehouse.

Caden's play is based on his life, and he soon finds himself involved with one of his actresses, Claire, as well as the actress playing Claire, and finds that the actor playing him, a man called Sammy (played by Tom Noonan) who would appear inexplicably in several scenes early on, presents aspects of himself that he never once considered to exist. To be honest, it's hard to describe the film as a Film, as it's so much more than the sum of its parts. The title itself is a play off the name Schenectady, which is where the movie opens before moving to New York (and taking a short detour to Germany). Synechdoche is a word for a thing that is a representation for another thing. In this context, Caden's play is a representation for his entire life, a life which has gotten old and fallen apart and failed even as he tries to direct it into something so manageable that he can see the point of it. But right at the third act, when a woman named Emma (played expertly by Dianne Wiest) in the film begins to play Caden in his play (and directs Caden himself to play Emma within the play...confused yet?) it is at this point that Caden realizes that he isn't in control of his life. He can't be. He has no notion of living his life on his own terms. He wears an earpiece which Emma uses to direct him in every single aspect of his life. When to sleep. When to wipe his ass. When to die. But through her we, the audience, comes to realize how much he's lost in his search more meaning. Every woman he'd ever loved left him in one form or another. His play, after 20 years, never had an audience (or an audience within the audience, as he actually creates a play within his play, and a play within that play....and ad infinitum). His search for meaning yielded nothing but loss. He thought himself to be the star of his life, when he is merely the costar sharing the stage with every other human being on Earth. "There are no leads. Everyone is the star in thier stories."

Kaufman shows a very deft technical knowledge of filmmaking; his composition was top-notch and simplistic enough to not be noticed (which is why I haven't commented upon it). The theatre in which I viewed the film is a small art theatre in my town, and the screen was too small for the film, so some of the edges weren't projected, and there was some damage to the stock that resulted in some wavy lines onscreen. But these were no fault of the director. The only time I noticed the directing was when there was something wrong with the projection, if that makes sense. Again, early on in the film we see Sammy in the background (at one point in bed with Caden and Hazel, played by the always beautiful Samantha Morton), and these little flourishes and foreshadows did confuse me initially.

And now that I mention Samantha Morton, I must add that she truly is remarkable in this film. She was gorgeous in Jesus's Son, and good in Enduring Love, and convincingly unrecognizable in Minority Report (I just realized she was Agatha! Holy crap!) But it's her role as Michelle in Jesus' Son that made me notice her. And with her work here as Hazel...she truly is heartbreakingly genuine. A woman looking to be loved but having to settle. A woman standing by the man she loves, despite the shit and insanity he spews out of his deranged genius. Kaufman's films have always involved strong, layered women with complex needs and motives, but here Hazel, with her moments of breaking Caden's heart and in turn having hers broken by him, is nothing less than the ideal. She literally lives in a burning home, and her last scene with Caden in bed, as an old woman (not very good makeup effects, I'm afraid...although Hoffman's makeup was considerably more convincing) is reminiscint of Kate Winslet telling Jim Carrey about Clementine, the childhood doll her character had in Eternal Sunshine. It's the money shot. It's the heart of the film, placed smack-dab in the middle of a burning house. She is every woman you will ever date. She is every woman I will ever love. She is the definition of patience, devoted to Caden to the very end.

Kaufman is extremely smart. That said, he throws a lot at the audience, not seeming to care whether or not we understand it all (at least one person in the theatre left halfway through, and I and one of my friends were the only two laughing during a lot of it...either we missed something, or we were the only ones getting the jokes). Like Michel Gondry, I feel that left to his own devices Kaufman indulges himself a bit, which is not undeserved, but which leaves his audiences craving more (with Kaufman, it's clarity; with Gondry, it's a plot). Together these two artists make an amazing team (Human Nature is too underappreciated; Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind is simply perfect). I like Synechdoche, NY, but as rewarding as it is as art it is an ordeal to sit through and understand as a film in one sitting. I'm not saying that a film can't be smart, but there's also a risk of alienating your audience. I made it through the film and would like others to give it a shot...but those without patience will not like this film (I suppose that's why I had to give this film a few days before writing this). This film will benefit from repeat viewings, but it'd take a lot to do it willingly (my friend, after walking out of the theatre, commented, "That was amazing. I love that movie. I will never see it ever again."...he said the same about There Will Be Blood last year too...) I love Synechdoche, but for the emotions, not the story. I know a lot of people may not like that, but that's okay.

This is a film at which I literally almost cried during at least two scenes (the aforementioned burning-house scene with Caden and Hazel, and the entire closing voiceover), smiled at just due to its sheer audacity and genius, and at the end of the movie I couldn't talk and had to immediately begin moving around, my mind alive with ideas. Just ideas. Not images (although, looking up at the clear night sky I kept expecting to see scaffolding and a roof), just ideas. I haven't felt that way walking out of a theatre in such a long time (when was the last time? During The Fountain?) Having seen this film just 2 days after seeing Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas just left me a complete mess intellectually. I need to pace myself.

I recently got the Martin Scorsese boxed set for Christmas, and just saw Who's That Knocking At My Door, so expect a review of that shortly.

I also plan on seeing Slumdog Millionaire sometime this week.

Kudos to Kaufman, Hoffman, and Samantha Morton (not like they need me, a nobody, to give them praise). But thank the three of you for making Synechdoche, NY. One of my favorites of the past year.