Monday, December 06, 2004

Alexander Payne essay

In the late 1990's, college was done and Des Moines was new. I was working only weekends and part-time, so I had lots of afternoons to spend at the movie theaters. I was hitting the video stores hard, and I was busy wrapping my youthful opinions around the world of cinema.

One afternoon at the theater, I was bowled over by a picture called 'Election.' As we all should know by now, this is a razor-edged satire about politics, ambition, and middle-aged despair. The Carmike Theatre was playing it because it was the new teen comedy of the week, and I went because Matthew Broderick was cast as the teacher, and I sensed, like many others did, that this would be a parody of his youthful turn as Ferris Bueller.

What I found was a film that had some of John Hughes whimsy, and just a touch of his sweetness, but also a very sinister perspective of human nature. The film was tightly and shrewdly-constructed, brimming with droll, comic flourishes, populated by perfectly-cast character actors, and damn near perfect.

At Iowa State University, I had been recently educated in the notion of auterism, or the notion of a director putting his or her personal style at the forefront of a film. Movies are, ultimately, the medium of the director, and thus, I went to find other work by the director of 'Election," Alexander Payne.

It turns out this was only the second film for the UCLA film school graduate, and the only other title on his resume was one I had seen in the video store, but had never rented. It was 'Citizen Ruth,' a story about a pregnant woman, played by Laura Dern, who's pulled by legal circumstances into the political battle over abortion. The similarities to 'Election' were striking. None of the principle characters were spared the comic skewering of Payne and his screenwriting collaborator, Jim Taylor. Both sides of the political debate are wholly presented as emotionally-cleavaged from Ruth's personal plight, and Ruth, herself, is perhaps the least sentimental character of the whole lot. She's a chronic "huffer' who consistently chooses the inhalation of paint cans and brake fluid over her health and the health of her baby.

Esquire film critic Tom Carson, a personal favorite of mine, named Payne the "Next Scorcese" in 1999. And though Carson felt the director went soft and sentimental in his next picture, 'About Schmidt,' I was firmly on board in 2002 when New Line released that third Payne feature, a vehicle for one of Hollywood's biggest stars, Jack Nicholson.

'About Schmidt's' opening night in Des Moines helped to truly cement my sense of loyalty towards Payne's vision. The character Schmidt was Warren Schmidt, an insurance man in Omaha facing the rest of his life at the onset of retirement. In addition to being Payne's third film, it was also his third film set, and filmed on location, in Omaha- Payne's hometown, and a city located just 2 hours west of Des Moines.

The subject matter of 'Schmidt' brought a more seasoned audience to the theater than did 'Election.' That was evident as the movie began, and I looked across the sea of bald heads and white hair ahead of me. The opening shots in the film were of downtown Omaha on a dreary winter day, but it could have been easily been Des Moines. The audience laughed appreciatively when the young character replacing Schmidt at the insurance office announced that he'd just moved with his young family from Des Moines. The audience howled several scenes later when the same character announced that "A business degree from Drake ought to be worth something."

It was at this moment that I realized the power and immediacy of regional film. When the action is taking place in your backyard, you are more easily transported to the screen. This is the reason, I realized, that you hear these New York actors blather on and on about their city and it's film society. Films contain a portion of our shared cultural identity, and audiences in these "selected" cities can perceive things in radically-different ways. My brother once relayed an insightful anecdote from his college film professor. This person had seen the film 'Fargo' in both California and Iowa. There's a line spoken by Frances MacDormand's character very late in the picture when she's driving one of the kidnappers back to town in her squad car. They're traveling through a snow storm, and she asks the criminal why he did what he did, "and all for a little bit of money," are her words. The man behind the wire sits silently. Her last words are "...and it's a beautiful day." Apparently, audiences in California thought that was funny. And maybe it was meant to be, but the audience in Iowa, and the one I saw the movie with, sat quiet and thought about what McDormand meant.

A criticism of Payne, and a common one of his closely-related film ancestor Billy Wilder, is that they condescend towards their characters. Satire is a delicate genre in which to make an artistic living, and Payne is especially vulnerable to attack because his subjects have frequently been red state dwellers . But, speaking as a Midwesterner, I find the characterizations to be quite penetrating and always refreshing. The nobility and best intentions of Kevin Costner's character in 'Field of Dreams' would be welcome representation for any one state, but if New York City is a broad enough landscape to support a Scorcese, Woody Allen, and Spike Lee, then Flyover Country should be able to house a handful of cynics.

David Lynch gave it the ole' Midwestern effort in 'The Straight Story,' but was ill-prepared to tackle our level of honest communication. He was bailed out, fortunately, by his casting of Richard Farnsworth, who gave one of the most subtle, heartbreaking performances in a generation of film.

I think Dern, Broderick, Reese Witherspoon, Nicholson, and all the others have been up to Payne's challenge. I knew those characters in 'Citizen Ruth' because some of them are in my family. I went to that modern suburban high school in 'Election.' And I definitely know Warren Schmidt and his wife. Many of them were in that theater the night I met them.

During the two years of waiting for Payne's fourth film, 'Sideways,' I frequently tracked its status on imdb.com, the Internet Movie Database. I read the comments from early screenings. I watched the trailer months before it opened. It was the closest examination of a film work in progress that I had ever experienced.

But let's face it. Alexander Payne does not inspire a cult following like Quentin Tarantino or Kevin Smith. The people my age who want to be part of a film "movement" are drawn to the exciting and exuberant styles of these other directors. Payne's approach is more measured, and less consistent from a marketing standpoint. I know very few people who are familiar with both 'Election' and 'About Schmidt.' Many Reese Witherspoon fans were probably put off by the weathered face of Jack Nicholson on the 'Schmidt' DVD case, or maybe you're a long-time fan of Nicholson and you can't get excited about a high school movie. Nevertheless, there's at least one obsessive fan out here in the hinterland, and I've done enough sharp-eyed viewing of the films to warrant inclusion in any Alexander Payne cult. For example, in 'About Schmidt,' notice that the movie 'Sideways' is already playing in the local theater when Schmidt visits his hometown. Howard Hesseman's character is married to an Asian woman named Sandra, which is the name of Payne's real-life wife, Korean-American actress Sandra Oh, who co-stars in 'Sideways.'

When the new film opened, I was ready. Des Moines wasn't. Two full weeks after 'Sideways' was released in New York and the reviews had begun appearing, the movie had still not arrived in Iowa. On a cold Friday night, my friend Rob- my Jim Taylor- joined me on a two hour drive to watch the film at Omaha's old Dundee Theater. I think it was the first time in my life I had driven to Omaha, and not through Omaha. Time did not afford extensive movie sightseeing, but Warren Schmidt's Modern Woodmen Insurance Building is in plain sight in the Omaha skyline. Plans for a full day sight-seeing trip back to Nebraska are in the works.

Long story short, you'll find 'Sideways,' along with 'Election,' on my list of the 50 greatest films of all time. Payne leaves Nebraska in this latest venture, with most of the action taking place in Central California's wine country. With this move, he has also widened his scope of storytelling. The four central characters of 'Sideways' are complex and endearing. He's cast four principals who live comfortably in their characters. For the fourth time in four tries, he's succeeded in his intent. He's found an engaging human story, selected the proper pitch, then strode confidently through- with a deft touch, some heavy banging on the keys, and a few surprises.

When this year's Oscar nominations are announced, Alexander Payne may well become a household name. He's the Billy Wilder of our generation, and I thought he'd be a fitting first essay for this website. He's helped inspire me to get busy and put some my thoughts out into the world. He would surely agree- a journalism degree from Iowa State ought to be worth something. - C.M.

1 Comments:

At 6:09 PM, Blogger Unknown said...

This is some interesting, unusually well thought out commentary. I, too, consider Payne, along with personal favorite Wes Anderson, the best and brightest currently making films. He has fantastic insight when it comes to portraying people who live in those small midwestern cities that have to wait and wait for films like Sideways to open locally.

 

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