Someday girl, I don’t know when, We’re gonna get to that place Where we really wanna go And we’ll walk in the sun — Bruce Springsteen, “Born To Run”
Someone come, come my someone Take the clouds from my eyes, my one I know that sometime soon One day, we’ll walk in the sun — Bruce Hornsby, “Walk in the Sun”
I want to be the one to walk in the sun — Cyndi Lauper, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” (written by Robert Hazard)
What is it about walking in the sun that made these songwriters believe that doing so was the ultimate embodiment of freedom and ideal happiness? Does it have to do with the promise of a new day? Or perhaps it’s not the walking or the sunlight that makes it perfect; maybe it’s what happened the night before that makes walking in the sun the following morning seem like the perfect time to reflect upon some glorious personal realization or triumph.
Such is the case in ANOMALISA, the stop-motion animated new film from writer and co-director Charlie Kaufman (working with Duke Johnson), in which the character of Lisa (voiced by Jennifer Jason Leigh) sings a lovely, slightly melancholy version of the Cyndi Lauper song to her would-be lover Michael (David Thewlis). He is so moved by the experience that he takes her in his arms. And the next morning, in one of the few glimpses of sunlight in the film, Lisa is genuinely happy—not because she’s just had sex for the first time in years, but because she believes this man sees her for who she really is, which in the world of ANOMALISA is saying a great deal.
Like most films by Kaufman, the debate among viewers will not be about whether they enjoyed the film or not. The discussion will be about the deeper themes and meaning of this deeply moving and mildly disturbing work that traces 24 hours in the world of Michael Stone, author and motivational speaker on the topic of improving customer service. This is among the film’s many ironies, since Michael doesn’t seem to enjoy the company of other human beings, including his wife and child in Los Angeles. When we meet Michael, he’s on a flight to Cincinnati to give a speech on customer service at a conference the next morning.
For the first 20 minutes of so, nothing remarkable happens in the story. Kaufman and Johnson are smart enough to let the audience take in everything in this remarkably realistic-looking world of posable puppets and small sets. It will likely take you about that long to also realize that every other character in the film has the same face (different hairstyles, body types, and clothes, but the same exact face) and voice, provided by the great Tom Noonan, whose only real vocal variations are low (for men) and high (for women).
The surface story of ANOMALISA isn’t really the point, although to ignore it completely in favor of the underlying, more troubling, idea that something is deeply wrong with Michael’s mind, would be a mistake. And while very little in the story is spelled out, it becomes clear that all of the characters have the same face because to Michael, everyone is the same—equally memorable, or more to the point, equally forgettable.
It just so happens that one of the few people Michael had a connection with in his life still lives in Cincinnati, and he calls her up and the two meet in the hotel bar. They have a heated conversation, rehashing why he ended their relationship, with her still clearly bearing emotional scars from the event and he not quite being able to put into words what went wrong. Still, there is something in what Michael manages to get out that paints a rough sketch of his worldview and his gut-wrenching belief that he doesn’t know what he wants out of life or love.
After this disastrous encounter, Michael stumbles out into the night drunk, looking for a present to bring back to his ungrateful young son. It’s at this point in the story where a spoiler warning might be warranted, only because there are several theories about the reliability of Michael as narrator. One school of thought is that we take the events as they happen, without question. But there’s another option: that everything that happens from this point on is imagined by Michael. Both theories are valid and have evidence to back them up. And both interpretations strengthen my original point that, as with all of Kaufman’s works (BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, CONFESSIONS OFA DANGEROUS MIND, ADAPTAION, and SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK), reality is subjective and worthy of constantly being called into question. Kaufman’s writings are about making the real world more of an option, rather than the only choice.
And don’t think I mean that just because this film is an animated story that it doesn’t resemble or feel very real and human; it absolutely does most of the time. But there are glimpses of insanity, instances where Michael’s face literally falls off, revealing the machinations of his puppet self. He quickly fixes the problem, but we’ve been deliberately taken out of the moment and been reminded that these creatures are being controlled, perhaps mirroring exactly what Michael is feeling.
At his lowest point of the night, Michael hears a voice that does not belong to Noonan; he hears a distinct difference and races out of his room to find the source. After pounding on enough doors in his hallway, he finds Lisa, who is shy, timid and wears her hair over her right eye to cover a noticeable scar just above it. She lacks confidence in herself and her quirky charms, to say nothing of how she views her own outward appearance and desirability. And all of these unique qualities draw Michael to her even more. He’s mesmerized by her voice, mostly because it’s different than all others, and he sees her as the great hope in saving his mundane existence. And of course, given Michael’s deep-seated issues with connection, she could never truly save him.
As in most Kaufman films, there are clues that certain sections of the story are not real, and that only makes the film more intriguing. However you gauge the film, bringing in your own biases and background, it’s still incredibly thought provoking and holds up to multiple viewings quite nicely, due in large part to the movie’s wicked sense of humor. Kaufman began his career as a comedy writer, and he never fails to deliver laughs in some of the most unexpected places, often times wedging them in between very quiet and serious moments.
There are also multiple ways to view Michael Stone. He’s an insufferable asshole who cheats on his wife without a second thought and uses women because he thinks it will somehow right his mind. Or he’s a hopeless romantic, in love with love, and therefore doomed to repeat the same mistakes with each new woman he finds appealing. If you believe the theory that Michael’s encounter with Lisa is imagined, then the final shot of her driving off (instead of walking) into the sun is nothing more than a delusional Michael believing that he touched someone so profoundly that she’s a better person after one night of passion with him. Been there.
ANOMALISA is yet another beautifully realized glimpse into how Charlie Kaufman’s mind works, how he sees the world in its skewed and sublime framework. It’s a romance, a paranoid thriller, a psychological character study, and a peek into the way men’s minds function (or don’t). A film using manipulated puppets becomes one of the most living, breathing screen efforts in recent memory, and I could watch it dozens of times and still find new things to love or be frustrated by. Either way, I don’t care. It’s interesting and will spark discussions with each new viewing.
