The Return of the Script
Movies from the end of 1999
Originally written: February 2000
Being John Malkovich
Three Kings
American Beauty
The Insider
Toy Story 2
Anna and the King
Bowfinger
What's happened in Hollywood of late? Suddenly it's rediscovered that which was lost: the scriptwriter. Three movies seen in the last few weeks are as well-written and well-directed as any I've seen in a decade. Certainly there are still the script-by-numbers jobs done for Arnie vehicles or for those twin inheritors of the Jerry Lewis poisoned chalice, Carrey and Sandler, but Being John Malkovich, Three Kings and American Beauty are a triptych of rare wonder in this age where we've all become cynical about the movie-makers. And each appears to be written largely by newcomers with something to say.
Being John Malkovich is the least commercial and most outre of the three. A wacky exploration of personality, dominance and puppetry, it is also the only one that is truly a genre film, sitting somewhere in the far-off branches of weird urban fantasy. The McGuffin is that there is a tunnel that enables people for 15 minutes to sit in the brain/mind of John Malkovich, an actor they all seem to know, although they're not sure why. After one's 15 minutes of fame, one is spat out on the side of the road near the New Jersey Turnpike. Now that's a strange fantasy idea but the internal logic of the film, given this off-beat idea, is impeccable. The central character is a failed puppeteer whose ideas are too sophisticated for the audience - using the story of Heloise and Abelard as the basis for a street-theatre busking exercise, for example - but whose talent is made abundantly clear by the movie maker. John Cusack, who has previously shone is less traditional roles in Grosse Point Blank and Grifters, to name but two, plays him to perfection.
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And he is matched by his costars, Cameron Diaz, frumped up as his wife, Lotte, and Catherine Keener (last seen in Out of Sight) as the coworker he lusts after, and by many of the bit part players including Orson Bean as his boss and Mary Kay Place as the latter's secretary.
But, while the acting is uniformly excellent, it is the script that is the secret of BJM's success. From the start it takes you into another, slightly off-centre, world and every time you think you're getting a handle on the weirdness, it takes you around another unchartered corner. But each development flows from the last, right through to the triumph of Malkovich as puppeteer/superstar. There are scenes along the way that stand out: the orientation film to explain the seventh-and-a-half floor; the guilt-ridden childhood flashbacks of Lotte's chimp; the scene where Malkovich enters his own mind; the puppetry of the dance number that starts the film and is revisited later. Charlie Kaufman is the writer and it's the first script of his produced. The originality and verve are startling, especially for a studio produced film. Spike Jonze, the director, comes from thew world of commercials and music videos; it's also his first feature. And a promising debut it is.
Finally, a salute to John Horatio Malkovich who allows himself to be used in the movie in ways that are not necessarily complimentary to his name. He demonstrates a sense of the ridiculous that his sometimes pompous acting might belie.
In all, a truly unique original.
We three kings of orient are ...
Three Kings is not quite as unique although it is breath-takingly original and confronting. Set at the end of the Gulf War, it is the first major anti-war movie made by Hollywood since M*A*S*H. It starts as if it is a Kelly's Heroes clone and changes directions several times. What looks like being a heist comedy in a war zone becomes an indictment of American foreign policy failure; a look at the problems of military-media relations; an investigation of what went wrong in Iraq after Desert Storm; and a very moving drama about the growing-up of some late maturing American soldiers. And in between it has some daringly funny moments. It is singularly unfortunate that it may miss its target audience because the trailer (at least the one used in Australia) suggests that this is just another war story/shoot-'em-up, though set in Iraq rather than the Ardennes.
The scriptwriter and director, David O Russell, has previously made a couple of low budget independent movies. Here he has charge of a major budget and some star power and it is all subsumed under another well-written and logical (within its own parameters) script. And he constantly surprises us.
George Clooney is the major name and this movie, combined with Out of Sight, should guarantee that he is taken seriously as a marquee name. And as an actor. He is very good in the pivotal role, taking the movie from its light start, through its very serious centre to an acceptable, although not completely palatable conclusion. He is assisted by Mark Wahlberg, who has finally set his male model days behind and is becoming a genuine actor, and Ice Cube, who for once is not embarrassing. Spike Jonze, director of Being John Malkovich, does a creditable job as the fourth of the three kings.
But it is the forthright and uncompromising critique of the way in which the Americans treated the Iraqi opposition and the less attractive sides of modern warfare that are the stand out here. It must have affronted American audiences more than somewhat. I hope it made them sit up and think.
A rose by any other name
The third script is also a first script, this time by a graduate of the US TV sitcom school. Alan Ball has previously worked on network TV, most recently on the marginal hit, Cybill. Now that show had its moments, particularly in the character of Mary-Ann, but its gives no hint of the dark light that American Beauty shines on suburban families. Directed by British stage director, Sam Mendes, his first movie, it explores the breakdown and resurrection of a family breadwinner in an American nuclear family.
Played by Kevin Spacey, he comes to realise that his marriage is a failure, he hates his job, his child is rebellious and he has the hots for her best friend, a pretty, but vapid, would-be model. The movie charts the last year in his life as the verities of his existence disintegrate and everything falls apart. His wife (Annette Bening) is a marginally successful real estate agent trying to find satisfaction in her career that is missing at home and resorting to a fling with the repellent real estate "king" of the area. Meanwhile the daughter is trysting with the new neighbour's teenage boy, an alienated youth fresh from a stint in the loony bin whose passions are drug sales and videoing everything, while avoiding confrontation with his repressed father, a retired Marine Colonel whose wife is as passive as Bening is active.
Like the other two movies, AB moves along a path that is not easily predictable and takes you into strange byways. But it is, far more than they, a study in characters. The father is gradually coming alive as he leaves behind the serial failures of his life and the daughter and her boyfriend (Thora Birch and Wes Bentley) are finding in each other the ability to provide what each needs. Like The Ice Storm, which covers similar territory, but not nearly as well, AB climaxes on a night when all the characters come together and the foreshadowed death occurs.
But the film-makers retain some respect of the viewers and neither dot there Is nor cross their Ts, but leave the viewer with more thinking to do.
AB is a product of the Spielberg Dreamworks' factory and, like the others, is a major budget behind a less than traditional view of the American dream. Spacey is very good (as we have come to expect) and the kids are also very well played.
This is perhaps the best of the three movies, in terms of simple movie making, even though I enjoyed BJM more - for its originality and verve. But whichever is the best, it's good to see some chances being taken by the studios and something a little new and original emerging from the American film industry.
Eating Crowe
The Insider is much more a traditional piece of Hollywood fare: the maverick producer and the whistleblower fighting the powers that be to have their story told. It is not as tightly written as the three originals but has some of the best acting you'll see and is directed by an artful and savvy director. Michael Mann brought Manhunter (the adaptation of Thomas Harris' Red Dragon), The Last of the Mohicans and Heat to the screen. He is an actor's director. Here he gives, principally, Russell Crowe, Al Pacino and Christopher Plummer outstanding opportunities and they take them.
Crowe is particularly good as Jeffrey Wigand the tobacco industry insider who is prepared to tell all. While this appears to be a slightly cleansed version of a very difficult customer, Crowe gives dimensions to the character that are only hinted at in the movie. He is assisted by Pacino who underplays Lowell Bergman, the 60 Minutes producer who got Wigand to talk. Crowe had also been excellent, but under-recognised, in LA Confidential, and his work here nces his reputation. Plummer plays Mike Wallace, one of the talking heads on the US version of 60 Minutes. Again, I don't know how true to reality the character as written is but Plummer does some of his best work here.
Unlike the other movies I've talked about, The Insider remains pretty predictable. But it is well worth a look at, mainly for the bravura performances.
Among other movies seen this last two months are some quite successful ones, even if not in the same class. Toy Story 2 is better than the original and much better than most of the crap being issued by Disney animation these days. If it weren't for the soppy love song interpolated half way through I'd have given this a much bigger tick. But it races along swimmingly, with some great jokes (the tour leader Barbie; the Jurassic Park spoof; the logic of Buzz Lightyear being Luke Skywalkered by his nemesis) and the additional of Joan Cusack and Kelsey Grammer as character voices. I am amazed at the sophistication and daring of the Pixar animators. They are the modern cutting edge of animation and the standard others will need to follow.
Anna and the King: loved him; hated her. If they were going to remake this movie with a more Asian feeling, this is a pretty good attempt, except that Jodie Foster, in putting on the pommie accent, screwed up her mouth so far that her face becomes frozen and her Anna has no oomph. Yun-Fat Chow, on the other hand, is a great Mongkut, far and away superior to Rex Harrison's japery and Yul Brynner's over-flamboyance. But why invent so much new material that is unrelated to Anna's experiences?
Bowfinger is a qualified failure, Heather Graham the only one emerging with any sort of enhancement to her reputation. But the question to be asked is: was the movie anything more than a long and not very funny attempt to have fun at the expense of Steve Martin's ex-girlfriend, Anne Heche?
[Note: Information about the movies mentioned, including cast and crew lists and all sorts of trivia, is available at the Internet Movie Database (IMDb).]