Showing posts with label Charlie Kaufman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlie Kaufman. Show all posts

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Adaptation

Adaptation is a film I wish I hadn't seen. I wish it didn't have such a powerful hold on me. Writing this film I didn't want it to turn into Birdman or Adaptation and I feel like I made a horrible amalgam of them both.

Adaptation is written by Charlie Kaufman and directed by Spike Jonze, who has made another one of my all-time favorite films Her. The film focuses on the character of Charlie Kauffman, as played by Nicholas Cage at one of his best, and his struggles adapting a real-life book called The Orchid Thief by real-life person, Susan Orlean. 

Orlean is played by the wonderful Meryl Streep, who brings a strong sense of authority to the character. Orlean's book is about John Laroche, played by Chris Cooper, who is a man obsessed with hunting ghost orchids which is an illegal practice in Florida. However these characters are never stagnate. They constantly shift and contort in personality as Charlie Kauffman, the person and the character, attempt to define them in their work.

The plot of the movie was supposed to be about Laroche. But the movie is about Charlie Kauffman the writer struggling with writers block. He is trying to create the perfect story out of a book about an orchid thief. Where the movie succeeds is how Kauffman manages to manipulate expectations. Kauffman's character has a twin brother, also played by Cage. Donnie Kauffman acts as an outside world. A world only concerned with plot and action and making money. But it is Donnie who is succesful, Donnie who gets the girl, Donnie who finishes and sells his screenplay. 


And this is what the movie becomes. It becomes driven by plot and by unrealistic romance and conflict. But it is the preceding hour, of personal conflict and creative frustration, that makes this result appealing. Kauffman creates a complex story of his own inabilities that is both frustrating and rewarding. He's made the movie after all.


I tried not making Adaptation. But revision after revision as my movie about anxiety started making me more anxious the film became a sort of knock off of this unstructured but emotionally appealing movie. I'd encourage people to watch Adaptation, a movie about how Charlie Kauffman doesn't like his own work. 



Thursday, January 28, 2016

Anomalisa is a Movie that is Playing in a Theater Somewhere

So I saw this movie the other day. It's called Anomalisa. If you haven't heard of it, check it out. It was written and directed by Charlie Kaufman. If you haven't heard of him, check him out. Because he and his work... well, it's definitely out there.

Anomalisa is a stop motion animated film that follows protagonist Michael Stone as he travels to Cincinnati to his latest book at a hotel service convention. The story is extraordinarily simple. Michael checks into his hotel. He meets a girl. And he falls in love with her. It's basically a 90 minute movie about a one night stand.

But, if you know anything about Kaufman, you'll know that things are never that simple. Every character that Michael perceives in the movie has the same voice and the same face (whether they are male or female, they are voiced by Tom Noonan). This is an extremely original and clever way of showing Michael's inability to connect to anyone.

But when he meets Lisa, he's immediately attracted. Why? Because Lisa doesn't sound like everybody else (voiced by Jennifer Jason Leigh). She doesn't look like everybody else. She's her own person.

Finally, somebody different. Somebody unique. Somebody to make a connection with. Right?

I don't want to give anything away, so I will say no more. But I highly recommend this film. I don't remember a film that made me feel so many different feelings all at once like this film did. So go out and see Anonalisa.


Thursday, September 18, 2014

In Praise of Charlie Kaufman's Synecdoche, New York

"An artist makes a movie that is so labyrinthine and obscure, such a road map of blind alleys, such a turgid challenge to sit through that it sends most people skulking out of the theater -- except, that is, for a cadre of eggheads who hail the work as a visionary achievement."
-Owen Gleiberman, Entertainment Weekly


In Roger Ebert's review of Charlie Kaufman's 2008 directorial debut, Syncecdoche, New York, the late critic deliberately included the above quote. Gleiberman isn't exactly the vanguard of the next generation of film critics, but Ebert takes pains to emphasize that although he disagrees (and considers himself one of the "eggheads" to which Gleiberman is referring), he respects his colleague's opinion on a film that many consider bloated, self-indulgent, inaccessible, and pretentious. 

"...just when you think it’s safe to go back to the movies, the plunger sucks up something from a clogged drain like the unspeakable, unpronounceable Synecdoche, New York, and you’re forced to take back every prematurely made prophecy about “the worst movie ever made.” Because no matter how bad you think the worst movie ever made ever was, you have not seen Synecdoche, New York. It sinks to the ultimate bottom of the landfill, and the smell threatens to linger from here to infinity."
-Rex Reed, The New York Observer


Since the late 1990's, Charlie Kaufman has become one of the few household name Hollywood writers. He and Spike Jonze burst onto the scene with 1999's Being John Malkovich, a strange film that dealt with the boundaries between fiction and reality in a way previously unseen. Over the next 10 years, he would write the critically acclaimed features Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, with the latter becoming both a critical and commercial success. How then did Kaufman, who had created large amounts of critical goodwill, find himself with a directorial debut that some considered the worst film of all time? How, also, did Roger Ebert name this film the best of the 2000's?

"Impressionistic, inaccessible and endlessly frustrating, “Synecdoche” is replete with art-house pomposity and the type of muddled profundity one sees in an introductory philosophy seminar. Ever witnessed a freshman struggle with the writings of Nietzsche and the implications of nihilism on his own self-awareness? Ever wanted to see that struggle blown up on the silver screen for two interminable hours?"
-Sonny Bunch, The Washington Times

Synecdoche
, New York is Charlie Kaufman's masterwork. The film deals most directly with themes present in all of Kaufman's films: dopplegangers, the nature of art and the creative process, obsession with love, obsession with loss, memory, and mortality. These themes all crop up organically in the unique narrative, which, although hard to distill into a sentence, essentially tells the story of a man trying to capture life in theater. We experience almost the entirety of a theater director's adult life in a way that has never before been attempted on film. The film flies through time, barely ever giving us a signpost of how far we've come. The narrative is layered beyond belief, and the other creative aspects of the film confront that narrative with full force. Phillip Seymour Hoffman turns in a masterwork of a performance as the protagonist, Caden Cotard, a man whose name gives an insight into his worldview (for more information, look up Cotard's Syndrome). Cotard's attempts to capture his life in an creative work echo the attempts of millions of artists that came before him, and echo the attempts of Kaufman himself.



"Even if you come out of the theater with your head spinning, as the days pass (and this is a film that will cause endless internal debate for days and weeks), what emerges in your memory is a sweet and profound tale of the struggle to create meaning out of the messes of our lives."
-Ian Buckwalter, DCist 

The grammatical term "synecdoche" refers to a small piece of something standing in for the whole object (for example, using "suits" to refer to businessmen). The title Synecdoche, New York is a key to unlocking the entire film. The play-within-the-film's set is a stand-in for New York City as a whole, and our protagonist is a stand-in for artists, writers, and creatives everywhere. The film seeks to miniaturize (but not reduce) some of the biggest issues that face any creative person, in order to examine them. Beyond that, the film could be read as being about life in general, transcending the creative process and tackling the totality of existence. Roger Ebert seems to think so:

"...the playwright's life refers to all lives, and all lives refer to his life. So Kaufman gives the whole thing away right there in his title. Talk about your spoilers."
-Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times 

Although I don't purport to understand the entirety of the film (or even most of it), I think that it's a film worth struggling through for anyone who thinks about topics like the nature of creativity and how mortality defines the human condition. I can't possibly contain all of my feelings about it in one blog post, so please excuse the rambling. Synecdoche, New York is a film that will haunt you, stick with you, and one that you will want to return to again and again.

To say that Charlie Kaufman’s “Synecdoche, New York” is one of the best films of the year or even one closest to my heart is such a pathetic response to its soaring ambition that I might as well pack it in right now. That at least would be an appropriate response to a film about failure, about the struggle to make your mark in a world filled with people who are more gifted, beautiful, glamorous and desirable than the rest of us — we who are crippled by narcissistic inadequacy, yes, of course, but also by real horror, by zits, flab and the cancer that we know (we know!) is eating away at us and leaving us no choice but to lie down and die.
-Manohla Dargis, The New York Times
I'd recommend reading Ebert's full review on the film, which can be found here, http://www.rogerebert.com/rogers-journal/o-synecdoche-my-synecdoche, as well as Manohla Dargis' full review in The New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/24/movies/24syne.html?_r=0.


Thursday, October 4, 2012

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind


I can honestly say my favorite movie of all time is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. At first, the movie can seem very confusing but once you understand what it’s about it is a masterpiece. The screenwriter Charlie Kaufman also wrote Being John Malkovich another one of my all time favorites, so you can see what kind of movie this is. The film is about Joel and Clementine, a couple who decides to erase each other from their minds. Once Joel finds out Clementine did it, he decides to get the procedure done as well. Unfortunately halfway through these memories he realizes he wants to keep them, and doesn’t want to forget all the history they had together. 

Most of the film is the memories that he wants to keep. The movie travels back in time to the present, with Joel unconscious getting the procedure done. This movie takes time and space to the next level since he's essentially in his own mind back in time.  It can be very confusing what dimension they are in but the cinematography helps this confusion.

The camera work plays a major role in deciphering what is a memory and what is reality. The memory scenes are usually shot in hand held, and the faces become distorted and blurry. We’re also able to tell what time period it is by the color of Clementine’s hair, which she changes frequently. Although it seems to not be a big part of the plot, it plays a major role in deciphering what’s a memory and how far back into the relationship they are.

The big plot twist in the movie (spolier alert) is that the beginning of the film is actually in end the of the film. After watching it a few times, you start to understand. The beginning seems to be them meeting for the first time but it it is actually them meeting for a second time post memory deletion. This plays into one of the many themes, fate.  Another important factor for being able to tell what is just a memory is the soundtrack used. During some of the memory scenes, the music was fuzzy and sounded like it was broken or rewinding. During reality, normal music was played. I could watch this movie everyday, and still find it just as fascinating as the day before.