I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #97 - Adaptation. (2002, dir. Spike Jonze)

Susan Orlean: “There are too many ideas and things and people. Too many directions to go. I was starting to believe the reason it matters to care passionately about something, is that it whittles the world down to a more manageable size.”

            The film I have chosen to turn you onto in this, my latest installment, is Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jonze’s loose adaptation of Susan Orlean’s book The Orchid Thief, entitled Adaptation. To properly introduce such a sprawling, inventive, and enigmatic movie, I will attempt a brief explanation of the structure. I won’t go too far into the details as unpacking the configuration of the script as you watch is a large part of the enjoyment of the movie, but the fact of the matter is that this movie, which is in essence an adaptation of a book about flowers, blooms into a film about the creative process of adaptation in general.

We are shown multiple layers of characters in a variety of different story lines. We have Charlie Kaufman, the actual person, adapting the book, his twin brother and all of the people in his circle (his agent, publicist, girl friend etc.), and we watch as he struggles with such a complex and original adaptation. Then we also follow Susan Orlean, John Laroche, and all of the other satellite characters involved in the book he is adapting. The fun of the film is the fact that as the plot develops the worlds of the two begin to merge and levels of fiction seep into the story to the point where it is the viewer’s task to either give into the developing story or try to decide where the lines of fact and fiction are blended.

One of the reasons I fell completely head over heels for this film is the brilliant way in which Kaufman (the writer not the character… or wait both I guess) has woven these two story arcs based in reality, where almost no immense action happens into one overblown and immense film experience. Early in the film the character of Charlie Kaufman is speaking to his publisher about the adaptation and the possibility of a love interest: “Okay. But, I'm saying, it's like, I don't want to cram in sex or guns or car chases, you know... or characters, you know, learning profound life lessons or growing or coming to like each other or overcoming obstacles to succeed in the end, you know. I mean... The book isn't like that, and life isn't like that. You know, it just isn't. And... I feel very strongly about this.” The battle of creating a story that is true to this statement is in essence the main focus of the film. However there is a very surprising and climactic ending lurking in the wings (but I won’t go too far into that…).

While the plot, characters, and dark comedic wit are the main focus and what truly makes this film one that I can enjoy over and over, there are certainly other reasons I can pull in an attempt to turn you on to Adaptation. if you aren’t hooked already. Charlie Kaufman (who also wrote Being John Malkovich (1999), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), and wrote and directed Synecdoche, New York (2008)) wrote the film and his work is always infused with a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor. Spike Jonze (known also for directing Being John Malkovich, Where the Wild Things Are (2009), Her (2013) and countless amazing music videos) then took the script and directed it into the amazing amalgamation it is. On top of these two creative masterminds the always-stunning Lance Accord then shot it – you may remember my ruminating on the magic of his eye in my essays about Marie Antoinette (2006) and Buffalo ’66 (1998). So the people behind the lens are incredibly well chosen. Then on top of this the acting is fantastic. Nicolas Cage luminously pays both of the Kaufman brothers (I know: Nicolas Cage! I’m as surprised as you!), Meryl Streep is fantastic (as usual) as New Yorker writer Susan Orlean, and Chris Cooper perfectly embodies the perplexing character of John Laroche. So those working in front of the lens are equally adept.

In a brief review and conclusion as to why you should buy and watch (re-watch) this film: the plot is imaginative and inventive, the direction and cinematography are spot on, the acting raises the bar of the story, and just to reiterate I cannot stress the fun and excitement of the story development. Watching this movie again in prep for this essay I was again immediately enveloped in the worlds of the story and couldn’t pull myself away from the screen. So give it a shot and if you hate it you can come in and find me to tell me why – but that’s not going to happen. You’ll love it.

- Edward Hill

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #71 - Bringing Out the Dead (1999, dir. Martin Scorsese)

"I'd always had nightmares, but now the ghosts didn't wait for me to sleep.” – Frank Pierce

 Martin Scorsese is well known for films such as Goodfellas, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Casino, Gangs of New York, etc. The list could go on and on. Unfortunately, when most people list off their favorite Marty flicks, there is one that is almost always missing: the 1999 film Bringing Out the Dead. Even though this film shares themes that audiences seem to enjoy under different titles, for whatever reason Dead gets left out in the cold. I’m here to turn you on to what is surely one of the most unique cinematic experiences you will have.

To begin with, this is the fourth collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader, the first three being Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and The Last Temptation of Christ. Excluding some controversy with Christ, these are routinely accepted as masterpieces. So, why the disconnect this time around? This writer thinks it is almost entirely a problem of preconceived notions. Even before the foolish critics of the time (excluding an excellent write up from Roger Ebert) labeled it as Scorsese-lite, people were turned off by the film. For unknown reasons, the all-star cast, including Nic Cage, John Goodman, Ving Rhames, Tom Sizemore, Patricia Arquette and Marc Anthony, didn’t fire up people’s curiosity. A good chunk of this trouble could be blamed on the film Marty directed prior to Dead – the unfairly maligned 1997 epic Kundun. Especially since Casino had come two years before that, people were in a gangster mood when the screen said Scorsese. Between the relative dislike of Kundun, the fact that not many people saw or cared to see his excellent documentary that served as a journey through Italian cinema (My Voyage To Italy), and the fact that this wasn’t a gangster film, Bringing Out the Dead was near destined to be a failure.

But, lucky for you, DVD exists and you still have a chance to dive headfirst into one of Scorsese’s most visceral films. Nic Cage plays Frank Pierce, a seasoned paramedic that works the graveyard shift in Hell’s Kitchen, in the early 90’s. For those who don’t know, this is New York at its worst: a vicious crack infestation (called Red Death in the film), unacceptable housing conditions, and crime at levels so high it almost becomes satirical. Your average filmmaker wouldn’t put in all the time necessary to recreate such a horrible time. But for Marty, this period is the absolute perfect setting for a tale of redemption through debilitating sacrifice and pain.  The cinematography by Robert Richardson gives an addictive energy to this oppressive tale of guilt and loss. One of the best things about Scorsese is that he will almost never judge characters in his films. Yes, Hell's Kitchen is shown as the crack-addled, violent, sleazy mess that it was at the time, but it rarely feels voyeuristic or superior. The purpose isn't to point fingers, but to study human behavior. Many will say that this is simply a poor rehash of Taxi Driver. Those people are fools. The two films are certainly related, but never the same. Taxi Driver is a story of revenge and redemption; Bringing Out the Dead is never a story concerned with revenge. Frank Pierce is a man haunted by his past and crippled by guilt over the lives he has lost. In particular a teenager named Rose, whom Frank couldn’t save, haunts him as if a ghost. Frank sees her face supplanted onto nearly everyone he comes into contact with. He hears her calling out for help and asking why he couldn’t save her. Through voice over narration, Frank lets us know that it has been months since he saved someone. This is where Scorsese drops us into the story. Frank is at (or very near) his lowest point. He drifts through his night-to-night existence fueled by whiskey, cigarettes and soul-crushing guilt. The film disorients the viewer almost immediately. Within minutes, we are part of this fever dream existence that Frank is trying to sustain. We begin to empathize to an almost uncomfortable degree made possible by Scorsese's ability to pull excellence out of Nicolas Cage. 

 Although Cage had offered up some great performances prior (Raising Arizona, Leaving Las Vegas), this marks the first time that someone could actually control him. Cage's normal performances range from vapid, blank stares to earth-shaking bursts of crazy. Bringing Out the Dead gives us his first performance that wobbles unsteadily in the middle. Without it, the film would've failed. The free flowing, unpredictable acting on display gives the film its shaky center, setting the stage for this brutal tale of suffering and the tension created from the line-riding is palpable. If a single line, either narrated or spoken, doesn’t hit home, the entire film falls apart. Scorsese wisely gives Cage a lot to do. We meet a wide array of people that all bring out some corner of Frank’s psyche that had yet to be exposed. John Goodman is Frank’s first riding partner in the ambulance. As always, Goodman brings an enormous energy and gets the film moving. We then get Ving Rhames at his best, as an energetic EMT who uses every opportunity to praise Jesus and deliver the Word. Last we get Tom Sizemore playing a man that can only get by taking his aggression out on whatever's around. Whether it's a crazed homeless man named Noel (a surprisingly solid turn from Marc Anthony), or the ambulance that acts as chariot to the hell that every night brings, Sizemore's character is on the verge of catastrophe at every turn. Along with Frank Pierce, the character Mary Burke (a slightly unenthused but solid Patricia Arquette), gives the story something to come back to after each vignette. Scorsese has been obsessed with faith, specifically Catholicism, since his first film. This time, he decides to be very overt in naming the character that Frank is drawn to for guidance, help and appreciation, Mary.  I shall now stop with any other plot details, because the rock n’ roll fueled energy that comes from seeing this film unfold would be foiled if more is revealed.

Moral of the story: why wouldn’t you want to watch a dizzying descent into one man’s personal hell, full of wonderful performances, a soundtrack that includes Van Morrison, The Clash, The Who and The Melodians, gorgeous, disorienting cinematography by Robert Richardson (Fast, Cheap and Out of Control, Casino), earnest balls-out direction from Scorsese and a brooding, psychologically probing screenplay from Paul Schrader? And of course we can’t forget – it’s a really great dark comedy. If I haven’t convinced you, here is a single quote from a better-spoken man than I that should do the trick.

“Once again, this carnival of lost souls gives him the stylistic equivalent of an adrenaline boost; intellectually, Scorsese may not pine for the early nineties, but they're custom-fit for his perpetual theme of redemption through suffering, and the vistas -- the steam heat rising like hellfire from the streets, the phalanx of hookers and dopers, the whole vast detritus of the human comedy -- leave him rapt. Scorsese used to make movies about this world when it was right on top of him; in Bringing Out the Dead, he's serving up what amounts to livid pictographs from the cave of an earlier era. Not too much earlier, though. His point may be that there's still a lot of Then in Now.” – Peter Rainer

   - Will Morris, House Manager, Sie Film Center