In the mid-to-late 1990s, Steve
Buscemi had one of the most ubiquitous mugs in show business. He showed up in
the films of everyone from the Coen Brothers to Quentin Tarantino and seemingly
every indie film in between. With his wiry frame and excitable bug-eyed
demeanor, Buscemi played the perfect tough-guy henchman-type. His presence is
always striking, and he’s been one of my favorite actors since the first time I
saw him in Reservoir Dogs. In Trees Lounge, Buscemi takes on the role
of screenwriter and director in addition to the lead role. The result is a
bleak portrait of the life of a small-town alcoholic.
Buscemi plays Tommy Basilio, the
protagonist, who has recently lost his job and his girlfriend of eight years to
his former best friend. Tommy lives in a gritty section of Long Island in a
small, run-down apartment above a bar called Trees Lounge where he spends just
about every waking moment of his life drinking and chatting with the bar’s
other regulars. One day, Tommy learns that his Uncle Al (Seymour Cassel), the
local ice cream man, has died of a heart attack. Al’s funeral not only brings
together a family who has so obviously drifted apart from one another, but also
gives Tommy an employment opportunity to take over Al’s rounds. Business is
slow at first, as Tommy does not prove to be as likeable to the neighborhood
kids as Al was. But eventually, he enlists the help of Debbie (Chloe Sevigny),
his former girlfriend’s teenage niece. This blossoms into a minor romance,
further complicating things in Tommy’s life and confusing the naïve Debbie.
Throughout the course of Trees Lounge, Tommy’s presence has a
King Midas-in-reverse effect on everything and everyone around him. The more he
drinks and closes in on himself, the more he pushes away the only people around
that genuinely want to help him. Tommy’s life, at his own doing, spirals more
and more out of control, the crux of which lies at this small dive bar that
acts as a metaphor for the lives of Tommy and the other patrons. The staff, the
décor and the jukebox selections have never been changed. They stay constant,
stagnant; much like the people, the ghosts, that inhabit it. The opening
credits scene of the film perfectly portrays the kind of place Trees Lounge is
when it focuses on one of its regular barflies, Bill, an elderly man who never
leaves his bar stool, ordering a double shot of bourbon and staring blankly
into space. Bill is a fixture at “The Trees” all throughout the film, sitting
silently by himself at the same stool and occasionally barking at someone to
leave him alone. This juxtaposes perfectly with the final scene, in which Bill
is ominously absent, recently hospitalized because he “just stopped breathing.”
Tommy, sitting in Bill’s stool, learns of this news and asks the other barflies
why no one is with him. They all assure him they’re going “after this drink.”
Tommy, realizing where he is headed, stares blankly in exactly the same way
Bill does at the onset of the film.
This film has come to mean a lot to
me over the years. I am intimately familiar with this life. I mean, I was in
high school when I first saw it, so I hadn’t really experienced life yet. But
over time, it’s become not just one of my favorite films, but the film that I
perhaps relate to the most. Alcoholism runs rampant in my family. I myself have
struggled with it for decades. More specifically, I have lived the life of the
small town daily saloon drinker. I know these characters well. I know the
feeling of hopelessness and pessimism that leads one to remain in such a
comfort zone and say, “well, fuck it. I guess I’ll go drink again.” Buscemi
captures this working-class alcoholism more realistically than anything I’ve
ever seen. But more than that, he also perfectly captures the self-destructive
nature that can often come with family and relationship rifts. Buscemi himself
has stated that the film is a sort of hypothetical autobiography, saying that
had he not left his small Long Island neighborhood of Valley Stream and begun
his acting career, this is the life for which he was headed. In a lot of ways,
my recent move to Colorado parallels that idea.
If it feels like I’m explaining a
film that is very heavy, it’s because I am. But, please don’t let that keep you
from checking Trees Lounge out. While
it may not be a feel-good sensation, Buscemi’s directorial debut is extremely
funny at times. It’s very dialogue-driven, almost more like a theatrical
production than a feature film. Another thing that sets it apart from, say, Barfly or Leaving Las Vegas is that it’s not all dark and depressing. There
are actually some very touching moments between Buscemi’s Tommy and the various
other characters. Maybe not everyone can relate to the material the same way I
do, but I really do feel that it’s possibly Buscemi’s finest film, acting,
directing or otherwise.
-
Jonathan Eagle
No comments:
Post a Comment