American Beauty (1999)
director: sam mendes
cast: kevin spacey, annette bening, thora birch, wes bentley, mena suvari, peter gallagher, allison janney, chris cooper, scott bakula, sam robards, barry del sherman, ara celi, john cho, fort atkinson, sue casey
You
have to be leery of a flick that generates such immediate talk of Oscar nominations,
plus the trailer for “American Beauty” was pretty bad implying something more
like “Poison Ivy” than “Sunset Blvd.”. The title isn’t much better and refers
to the roses tended to by an uber-neurotic Annette Bening or a certain Lolita
occupying Kevin Spacey’s wet dreams (or, perhaps it refers to something better...).
It just seems like a movie that is this good shouldn’t have a title this blah.
“American Beauty” could easily have fallen into the “natural disaster” category. In another words, a movie where there’s nothing more wrong with its weird, self-absorbed characters that a really good natural disaster couldn’t fix. To a degree this is true with “American Beauty” but its characters move beyond being just schmucks. Any film featuring a forty something year-old lusting after his fifteen year-old daughter’s girlfriend (and fellow cheerleader) has a lot of potential for disappointment. Instead of pathetic, first time director Sam Mendes manages a good dose of pathos and puts together a funny and entertaining movie involving complicated characters with real emotions. All the characters become caught on the sifting sands of change as they begin redefining themselves and their relationships to each other.
Kevin “I’m not gay” Spacey scores another hit (the guy knows how to pick ‘em) as the totally emasculated husband of Annette Bening and awkward father of Thora Birch. His mid-life funk and subsequent crush on one of his teenage daughter’s friends transforms him from an unhappy, ad-writing, jerk-off artist into a somewhat happy, burger flipping, fitness crazy, pot smoking, jerk-off artist. However, his sudden acquisition of a set of brass balls doesn’t go over well with those around him, especially with his Stepford wife Bening. Speaking of who, Bening portrays such a desperate for perfection lunatic it’s surprising that her face doesn’t break in half from all the uncomfortable and forced smiling.
Pouty
Thora Birch is equally uncomfortable as an only child caught in the middle of
her parent’s disintegrating marriage. She’s so repressed and confused that she’s
actually contemplating a boob job even though it’s really obvious that she has
got plenty in the chest department. Her ambivalence towards sex is emphasized
by her friendship with fellow cheerleader Mena Suvari. The two couldn’t be much
different, with coquettish Suvari delighting in shocking her school chums with
stories of her slutty sexual exploits/fantasies. Their friendship comes under
growing strain from two sources. First, Birch’s dad, Spacey, who literary salivates
anytime he lays eyes on Suvari – this creeps out Birch to the obvious delight
of Suvari. Second, is the arrival of Birch’s new next door neighbors, in particular,
Wes Bentley. Bentley is a strange high school lad with a video camera and disarming
honesty. His preference for moody Birch over dirty All-American girl Suvari
puts additional strain on the girl’s friendship. Bentley spends his time video
taping everything (and I mean everything) when not answering his beeper to sell
some weed or to smoke some himself. His behavior seems considerably less strange
in comparison to his parents – an ex-marine colonel who likes to collect Nazi
dinner plates and his catatonic wife.
I’m not giving away anything in saying that Spacey winds up dead. This is established at the very beginning of the film in a monologue reminiscent of “Sunset Blvd.”, but “American Beauty” isn’t a murder mystery, either. Spacey’s murder becomes secondary to a bittersweet revelation. It’s this other layer about going beyond the surface of existence, to dive underneath an apparently sterile world of forced politeness that makes this movie worthwhile. – Tom Graney
$9.50
© 1999 Hollywood Outsider™