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I saw the latest film by my evil cinematic namesake this weekend, and while my sensibilities were less offended by this one than "Happiness", I still think Mr. Solondz is a produced of empty gestures, a clueless and adolescent provocateur. My take on the film as a whole was that it was a response to the critical response "Happiness" got, (although, Solondz seems to ignore the fact there was almost as much gratutitous ejaculating among critics about Happiness, and instead focuses on the response of "middle america" to his film, as if middle america saw it or cared what he thought at all) and a pre-emptive response to the criticism the "stories" (such as they are) in the current film would get.
First piece, Fiction, which has the advantage of being the shorter of the two. A simple story of a creative writing student and the tokens she enjoys (or not) fucking. I actually admire a lot of the way this one was shot, with the Robert Wisdom character (author of "A Sunday Lynching", also funny) being consumed by shadows (which in one shot actually completely dissolves his face, turning him into a walking negation of a person into which Blair's character can pour her stereotypes)in a way that is symbolic of the Selma Blair character's inability to deal with his blackness.
Since the story is more a sketch, and the most striking thing about it won't be seen by anyone who sees it outside of America (the big red block), I'll move on to the final "critique" segment, where the members of Selma Blair's character's writing seminar rip apart her account of her sexual encounter with Wisdom. Solondz makes a girl with bangs, in a patterned, buttoned-up sweater (a symbol of suburban america's banality, in his cinematic language) say something to the effect of "Why must people write about such ugliness?" We, as Solondz's knowing audience, are supposed to laugh at this poor naif, as we know that real life is ugly and challenging and disturbing. The problem is, Solondz's movies are NOTHING like real life. They are grotesques just as much as a Saturday Night Live Sketch is a grotesque. Happiness is as representative of suburban life as "american beauty" was...
Which leads me to "Non-fiction", the second half of the movie. After an interminable opening sequence of a phone conversation that sets up the Solondz doppelganger, Toby the doucmentary filmmaker, the film goes on to detail Toby's quest to make a film about a the burn-out son of a suburban noveau riche family and his struggle with his future.
A discerning viewer must applaud Solodnz's attempt to skewer the odious "American Beauty", but he also takes on a far superior film, Chris Smith's documentary, "American Movie." Solondz seems to think that American Movie made fun of it's subjects for the amusement of a hip, jaded indie film audience, and apparently wishes to expose this callousness at the heart of the hipster. But Solondz taking someone else to task for lack of empathy with his subjects is just like Oliver Stone using a film to critique the sensationalism/violence of the film media. Unless Storytelling is an exercise is self-flagellation, which it gives no indication of being, Solondz needs an extended holiday in Selfawaria.
However, I will give him credit for offering the view a LOT to talk about, whether it is his dodgy racial politics (Storytelling could be subtitled "The Darkies strike back") or his overt anti-semitism (just why does Scooby's family have to be Jewish?). |
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