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Charlie Kaufman's SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK Is "Worth The Price Of Admission"!!
Beaks here...
It's nice to see the critical consensus... if not turning around on Charlie Kaufman's SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK, then at least balancing out. Some people are confounded by it, others unmoved, but there is a very vocal camp out there claiming that Kaufman has delivered something very close to a masterpiece. I know Moriarty really liked it (though he's not one using the "m" word); I also know he interviewed Mr. Kaufman. Can't wait to read that.
Mostly, I just can't wait to finally see the movie, which impressed this anonymous reader...
When a writer becomes a director, any number of outcomes are possible. In some cases, you'll get a John Huston or a Billy Wilder, directors who started as in-demand writers and eventually became exalted in both categories. More often, however, you'll have writers who come to the job thinking strictly in narrative terms and failing to develop that vital visual flair. As such, their projects emerge as interesting but immature works.
Charlie Kaufman has proven his mettle as a visionary writer many times before, but he addresses his scripts as what they are: blueprints to be utilized in a visual sense. The subjects and styles he's dabbled in (surrealism especially) seem tailor made for visual storytelling. However, the reigns have always been in the hands of capable music video directors like Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry. That he's made his first film as director is an event of potential celebration or disappointment.
Oh, well. It should at least be interesting.
And it is. I'd go so far as to say it's very good. In fact, by the end I found myself falling in love with the vision and the uncompromising nature with which it's conveyed. Kaufman has never been this ambitious or inventive before. Synecdoche, New York begins like many modern comic-dramas and soon devolves into a hellish combination of 8 1/2, Zerkalo, and Inland Empire, thus purging itself of any chance at boxoffice success. Yet, though the critics may scratch their heads over this, and the public stands little chance of understanding its virtues, I feel this may be Kaufman's masterpiece, if not his best paced film.
Synecdoche begins ordinarily enough. The first act keeps things relatively believable, with its protagonist, playwright Caden Cotard (played by the always superb Philip Seymour Hoffman), in a dead-end marriage and an artistic life gone unappreciated by his family. Everyone loves his new play except for his wife, who leaves him with their daughter to go to Germany. Strangely, Cotard begins to suffer from a variety of diseases and maladys after the nozzle of a faucet breaks and slams into his brain, creating a permanent bump. From this point on, we watch Cotard seem to enter a dream world in which time marches on and his troubles with women ranging from his ex-wife to his daughter to his many lovers forever torture him.
Thus, he decides to funnel his frustrations into a strange project: A life-sized scale model of New York City in which hundreds of actors play out an everlasting script. This part of the story grows ever more confusing as Cotard hires actors to play himself and his lover. When the actor hired to played Cotard starts courting his real-life lover, it becomes quite clear that attempting to understand this film in literal terms is impossible.
Let it be perfectly understood that, even by Charlie Kaufman standards, this film is decidedly avante-garde in its storytelling approach. We've no way of knowing the film isn't a dream, or if it's half-dream ala Mulholland Drive or 8 1/2. Part of what makes this film so admirable is its dedication to this surrealistic world, even going so far as having Cotard see himself and his family in adds in magazines and on television without the usually inevitable clarification of the hallucinatory nature of these visions.
What most concerned me was whether Kaufman could make the jump to directing, but he rises to the occasion. In fact, he has a real chance of matching or surpassing Jonze and Gondry before him. He may lack the economy or pacing of those directors, but his visuals are remarkably poetic and abstract, and he knows how to combine scenes to create an earie tone throughout the picture.
All the same, responses from others have mixed. It's easy to see why. Synecdoche, New York will not be liked by everyone, especially those uninterested in these sorts of experimental works. However, those people should not dismiss the film upon first viewing, as Kaufman has powerful things to say about human misery. One can take this work as pessimistic or as an objective study of the toll of wallowing in self pity. The film is uncompromisingly tuned into this character's way of thinking, which emits a Kafka-esque sense of despair. Whether the protagonist truly lives such a horrid life or merely dreams it is up to the audience, but we nevertheless can learn from his mistakes. Kaufman and Hoffman have crafted a character that is simultaneously pathetically neurotic and heartbreakingly sympathetic, dealing with fears we ourselves must contemplate; death not being the least of them.
Whether or not you ultimately enjoy what Kaufman's offered, I wholeheartedly recommend that audiences at least experience what Charlie Kaufman has composed. It's certainly entered my very short list of must-see films from this largely underwhelming year. Even if he hasn't perfected his directing style, Kaufman has displayed serious talent in the field, and I commend him for it. Commendations should go to every aspect of this film, for it's one of those mighty experimental achievements so rarely seen in cinema. That alone is worth the price of admission.
Charlie Kaufman has proven his mettle as a visionary writer many times before, but he addresses his scripts as what they are: blueprints to be utilized in a visual sense. The subjects and styles he's dabbled in (surrealism especially) seem tailor made for visual storytelling. However, the reigns have always been in the hands of capable music video directors like Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry. That he's made his first film as director is an event of potential celebration or disappointment.
Oh, well. It should at least be interesting.
And it is. I'd go so far as to say it's very good. In fact, by the end I found myself falling in love with the vision and the uncompromising nature with which it's conveyed. Kaufman has never been this ambitious or inventive before. Synecdoche, New York begins like many modern comic-dramas and soon devolves into a hellish combination of 8 1/2, Zerkalo, and Inland Empire, thus purging itself of any chance at boxoffice success. Yet, though the critics may scratch their heads over this, and the public stands little chance of understanding its virtues, I feel this may be Kaufman's masterpiece, if not his best paced film.
Synecdoche begins ordinarily enough. The first act keeps things relatively believable, with its protagonist, playwright Caden Cotard (played by the always superb Philip Seymour Hoffman), in a dead-end marriage and an artistic life gone unappreciated by his family. Everyone loves his new play except for his wife, who leaves him with their daughter to go to Germany. Strangely, Cotard begins to suffer from a variety of diseases and maladys after the nozzle of a faucet breaks and slams into his brain, creating a permanent bump. From this point on, we watch Cotard seem to enter a dream world in which time marches on and his troubles with women ranging from his ex-wife to his daughter to his many lovers forever torture him.
Thus, he decides to funnel his frustrations into a strange project: A life-sized scale model of New York City in which hundreds of actors play out an everlasting script. This part of the story grows ever more confusing as Cotard hires actors to play himself and his lover. When the actor hired to played Cotard starts courting his real-life lover, it becomes quite clear that attempting to understand this film in literal terms is impossible.
Let it be perfectly understood that, even by Charlie Kaufman standards, this film is decidedly avante-garde in its storytelling approach. We've no way of knowing the film isn't a dream, or if it's half-dream ala Mulholland Drive or 8 1/2. Part of what makes this film so admirable is its dedication to this surrealistic world, even going so far as having Cotard see himself and his family in adds in magazines and on television without the usually inevitable clarification of the hallucinatory nature of these visions.
What most concerned me was whether Kaufman could make the jump to directing, but he rises to the occasion. In fact, he has a real chance of matching or surpassing Jonze and Gondry before him. He may lack the economy or pacing of those directors, but his visuals are remarkably poetic and abstract, and he knows how to combine scenes to create an earie tone throughout the picture.
All the same, responses from others have mixed. It's easy to see why. Synecdoche, New York will not be liked by everyone, especially those uninterested in these sorts of experimental works. However, those people should not dismiss the film upon first viewing, as Kaufman has powerful things to say about human misery. One can take this work as pessimistic or as an objective study of the toll of wallowing in self pity. The film is uncompromisingly tuned into this character's way of thinking, which emits a Kafka-esque sense of despair. Whether the protagonist truly lives such a horrid life or merely dreams it is up to the audience, but we nevertheless can learn from his mistakes. Kaufman and Hoffman have crafted a character that is simultaneously pathetically neurotic and heartbreakingly sympathetic, dealing with fears we ourselves must contemplate; death not being the least of them.
Whether or not you ultimately enjoy what Kaufman's offered, I wholeheartedly recommend that audiences at least experience what Charlie Kaufman has composed. It's certainly entered my very short list of must-see films from this largely underwhelming year. Even if he hasn't perfected his directing style, Kaufman has displayed serious talent in the field, and I commend him for it. Commendations should go to every aspect of this film, for it's one of those mighty experimental achievements so rarely seen in cinema. That alone is worth the price of admission.
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Looks intriguing.
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I saw it at TIFF and I came out of it not knowing what I'd just witnessed. It was only upon reflection over hours and days that I realized how truly amazing the film was. I can't wait to see it again and get more out of it.
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Dug the review, and am now more intrigued by it than I was yesterday.
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Other than Nailin' Palin.
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That's all I want in life, for Danny to be happy. Is that really too much to ask? IS IT?
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Is he referring to his home life because I thought this year kicked some ass at the cinema!
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Looking forward to Mori's review and interview.
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Liked Malkovitch. Didn't like Human Nature. Loved Adaptation. Consider me curious.
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Malkovitch was great but i don't love it like i do the others. Ain't seen Human Nature, and get the impression it wasn't worth seeing. Am i wrong?
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I think it's worth watching, but is very underwhelming. That being said, I know a few people that couldn't stop laughing while watching it.
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Human Nature was o.k. Repeat viewings made me like it a bit more. And Patricia Arquette is very easy on the eyes....AND THE BONER!! Hey-o!
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But only because I realized a while ago that I'm a psychological unstable nutball and it's just a matter of time before I kill myself.
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I think he was a staff writer on the short-lived Dana Carvey show, along with Steve Carell, Stephen Colbertm, Louis C.K. and Dino Stamotopolous (sp), who later worked on Mr. Show. P.S. Wasn't this once called Dark City?
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A great artist trying something new. Sometimes they fail (Tideland) sometimes the succeed. But it's always exciting to see them try.
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when people are listing the people who have directed Kaufman scripts, they always leave off poor ol' Clooney? It's not like there's that many people who have directed a Kaufman script. Including the man himself, we're now up to 4. Poor ol' Clooney...
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I think it's partly because Kaufman has removed himself from the film. I remember reading an interview where he stated that the Confessions film was not a representation of what he wrote. He claimed that there was no working relationship between he and Clooney, unlike the relationship he has with Jonze and Gondry, and I think therefore doesn't want to be associated with the final product regardless of whether or not the public thinks the film is good. I like the film, but I can see how a writer would be dismissive towards associating themselves with a film that they had no involvement in beyond the initial script, especially if a lot of changes were made after that. In terms of credits the film is a Charlie Kaufmann script, but to Charlie Kaufmann it's not a Charlie Kaufmann script.
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Im so sick of tripe being passed off as avant-garde cinema...Kaufman since Human Nature has been wonderful and inventive an a throwback to Fellini, Bergman, Godard and the other art house genuis of the past...except there are few art houses for his films to play in...everybody go see this and maybe one day the films everyone cares about wont be spiderman 11 and iron man....
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Give me fried tits and scrappy skittled buttplug stapled scrotums with fuckersly hot salsa shitting assholes and a side of vulva soup oribiting a shitfire around my buttock applecock and dicktitty boners.
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Huh.
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Sounds delicious! Any vulgarity NOT combined with another in that sentence?
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This plot sounds suspiciously similar enough to Tom McCarthy's novel Remainder. Anyone read it? -
If it's soooo subversive and almost impossible to understand why in the fuck would someone want to watch it? I stated it before, I must have shitty taste in film, but I can't see myself watching paint dry on a wall for an hour while a midget jumps rope, and then tell my friends "Yeah that latest David Lynch,Kaufman film was just awesome". I'm retarted.
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What gives? Should be celebrated every day!
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