³ American Beauty ³ * * * *
... um. Wow.
Ever seen a film so well-constructed, so accomplished every moment, one to the next, you get chills? That happened to me about ten times during the brilliant, brilliant, brilliant AMERICAN BEAUTY.
Hard to describe, and how often does that happen to movies, BEAUTY stars Kevin Spacey (in _the_ performance of 1999) as Lester Burnham, a self-proclaimed loser who tells us candidly heıll be dead soon. He feels dead already, anyway, so his presage sounds like that of someone content with, at least, knowing how things are going to turn out, knowing they gave a crack at changing their dolorous existence for the better while they still had a chance to. As opposed to living in a constant state of numbness, and certainty life will always be unsatisfactory and the best to possibly hope for, from it, is to occasionally experience mediocrity. Noone around you respects you, youıre stuck in a dead-end job, home and family couldnıt be more wrought with dysfunction -- so much so that itıs like everybody knows their role, and nobody even feels connected to themself any longer. I canıt imagine a lower form of being, which is right AMERICAN BEAUTY kicks off.
Lester canıt take anymore. The day to day to day emotional void; the resent laying dormant, just below the surface, chafing everything. The nagging sense of detachment. His power- trip wife, Carolyn (a most energetic Annette Bening), places too high a value on their couch, and dresses professionally to tend garden; no time for sex. His daughter Jane (Thora Birch) hates both parents, equally, and wishes they would just go away. At work, his boss hints around a firing, unless he writes a company letter begging them to keep him on. Hopeless scenario.
Then, Lester meets two individuals whoıll turn things around. One is Amanda Hayes (Mena Suvari), his daughterıs cheerleader classmate. At a high school basketball game, he spots the blonde lolita -- in a rather racy dance sequence, ages considered, where itıs just the two of them: Lester alone in the bleachers, spot- light on her -- and is marvelled. Thereıs a great scene right after -- Jane introduces Amanda, and Spacey stares at the girl, mouth agape, stumbling desperately for something to say; itıs an embarassing moment because Spacey plays it with genuine infatuation, crush written all over his face, exposed and vulnerable. Later, he eavesdrops on an integral conversation which promptly inspires Lester to start working out, get buff. To impress, at first, but it becomes more about building self-confidence.
Person #2 is Ricky (a mesmerizing Wes Bentley), the new arrival next door with a propensity for filming everything in sight; broken home, itıs a means of escape. He hooks Lester up with weed and, in another terrific scene, quits his job as a waiter -- probably just as big a waste of time as Lesterıs advertising position -- without batting an eye. Lesterıs floored by that kind of indifference; friendship is instantaneous.
We also meet Rickyıs domineering Marine colonel father (Chris Cooper), who beats him up for disrespecting privacy and requires a drug test every six months. Something I canıt recall ever having seen before in a movie. I didnıt so much agree with that characterıs turn of events, but heıs performed with a firey intensity by Cooper that brings the caricature bully out of cliche zone.
Same goes for the rest of this cast. Thora Birch, as Jane, with a permanent cautious/troubled gaze, lets us know the isolation of jaded youth from scene one, as she is video- taped by an unseen Ricky who asks her if she wants him to kill her old man. Birch finds just the right tone and sustains it effortlessly. She has the generation-angst, sure -- mom and dad (mostly mom) construe her as brat -- but a scarred soul to boot, and the actress looking lovely in her teens, hair dark, face ravaged by repressed emotion, haunts in a knock-out piece of work. I loved all her scene with Bentley (Supporting nom for this guy, please), the creepy new guy Jane catches spying on her and dismisses with a ³fuck you². Face to face, though, Ricky staring directly at Jane, nothing but eye contact, it isnıt so easy since he seems to be looking into her. Through her. Getting to know her, which we presume nobodyıs ever taken the time to do, without words -- just pure, unspoken honesty. Their best scene is spent watching a plastic bag dance in the wind; he explains itıs like God speaking to anyone aware enough to notce. He notices. And, thereıs the great line, ³... so much beauty in the world, I feel like I canıt take it², made all the more powerful by Bentleyıs tear-eyed delivery. Ricky is observant, forthright: ³Iım not obsessing. Iım just curious,² he tells Jane; or, ³Youıre ugly. Youıre boring. Totally ordinary. And, you know it² to the superficial Amanda. Sometimes the words hurt, but theyıre always true. Itıs a defense mechanism, his brutal honesty, we sense. We get to sense a lot, with this nuanced portrayal of sophisticated toughness.
I have to go back to Kevin Spacey. Heıs found a career high.. no minor feat (his work, here, surpasses even GLENGARRY GLENN ROSS - my favorite). Like Billy Bob Thornton, in last yearıs A SIMPLE PLAN, or Robert Downey, Jr., in TWO GIRLS AND A GUY, this is truly superlative acting. I always measure the effectiveness of a performance by whether or not I can make out an actorıs face, or if there is only the character; wierd, but it happens. Only the great ones do that, and in BEAUTY, Spacey does it. I was glad to see Lester Burnham regain self- esteem. I cared. His alliance with the much younger, but only in appearance, Ricky is palpabe and memorable. His perhaps insalubrious relationship with Amanda is expertly handled. Lester is turned on by her, and she by him, and that doesnıt go away once the script has established Lesterıs awakening, rebirth so to speak; the sexual longing still remains, even after Lester has become a better personı. He also loves his wife (quite obviously, from their couch scene), and that doesnıt disappear, either. This is three-dimensional writing at its best, and the magnetic Spacey makes it unforgettable.
Three specific moments mark AMERICAN BEAUTY -- along with everything else I have said -- best film of the Fall, and year, thusfar: Rickyıs final, mental revenge against his father; perfect. The long, aforementioned close-up of a plastic bag, with voice-over; perfect. And, in the warm, poignant scene between Lester and the underage object of his affection, when she asks him how his life has been; Spaceyıs expression, reflecting back, the way it curls into a triumphant smile moved me to tears.
Bravo to Adam Bellıs uninhibited, progressively interesting screenplay. Bravo to a stellar ensemble. Bravo to myriad inevitable Oscar nods. AMERICAN BEAUTY reminds us, above all, the vitality of indisputably great cinema.
Best line: "I'm looking for the least possible amount
of responsibility."
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