Film Review: 'Synecdoche, New York' loses direction, maybe by design
Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a theater director staging a revival of "Death of a Salesman," awakens to morbid poetry on the radio, expired milk in the refrigerator, his daughter's bathroom reports of mysterious "green poop," and the news that one of his idols, Harold Pinter, has died.
That bad news is good news for moviegoers, because for about two-thirds of its running time, "Synecdoche, New York" -- pronounced Sin-neck-duh-key, more or less, like "Schenectady" -- is a brilliant and extremely funny if extraordinarily dark comedy about a man suddenly, acutely aware of the dark Pig-Pen cloud of mortality hovering over his (and every) head.
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"Synecdoche, New York" stars Philip Seymour Hoffman, Samantha Morton, Michelle Williams, Catherine Keener and Emily Watson in a Sydney Kimmel Entertainment release. Rated R for language and some sexual content/nudity. Watch »
Philip Seymour Hoffman becomes obsessed with his mortality.Abbot GenslerSony Pictures Classics
Rated R for language and some sexual content/nudity
Length: 123 minutes
Released: October 24, 2008 LimitedScore: 3.0
Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Samantha Morton, Michelle Williams, Catherine Keener, Emily Watson
Director: Charlie KaufmanProducer: Anthony Bregman
Writer: Charlie Kaufman
Genre: Comedy, Drama
Distributor: Sydney Kimmel Entertainment
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As the days pass and the movie progresses, Caden's status rarely improves. His wife (Catherine Keener), an artist who paints painstaking miniature portraits, confesses to the couple's therapist that she has fantasized about Caden's death. A doctor diagnoses "synaptic degradation," and Caden's face erupts in "pustules," which he blames on "sycosis" (chronic inflammation of the hair follicles), which he explains is a homonym, not a synonym, for "psychosis." His young daughter helpfully points out that daddy could be suffering from both. Confirms mom: "Everyone is disappointing, the more you know someone."
All this dark wit and intimate characterization is just the foundation for the layered and extremely Charlie Kaufmanesque construct that begins in earnest after Caden wins a MacArthur "genius grant." With his grant money, Caden longs to create something "unflinchingly true ... of unremitting value."
He decides to create a macroscopic (in contrast to his wife's microscopic) work of art: A "massive theater piece" that will re-create his life and the lives of those he knows, with actors, inside a life-size warehouse mockup of the environment he inhabits. Thus, an actor (Tom Noonan) is hired to play Caden, and an actress (Emily Watson) becomes the thespian counterpart to Caden's girlfriend/assistant (Samantha Morton). Eventually, Caden needs other performers to represent these actors, who have become as much a part of his life as the people they portray. The project expands like a series of Russian nesting dolls, in reverse.
Years pass, and Caden's never-ending "theater piece" loses its direction, which is the point; but so does the film, which also may be by design. Tedium sets in -- like life? To parallel the aging process? We begin to measure out the time in teaspoons, and the movie becomes banal and morose.
The entire production of "Synecdoche, New York" is, of course, an art project itself, with nothing "real" about it, which explains some of its absurdities (a woman lives in a house that is always on fire but never burns down). The movie confronts realities that films rarely acknowledge: That people can die in pain, after a long life, unredeemed and filled with regret; in fact, most of the residents of "Synecdoche" seem to come to sad ends.
Even so, you can almost hear the director offscreen, telling us not to despair, stage-whispering in our ears like a weird combination of Auntie Mame and Samuel Beckett: "Yes! Live! Life's meaningless, maybe, but it's still a banquet!" By this point, Caden also has a voice whispering in his ear -- literally. He, too, probably wants to say: "Be quiet and let me out of here."
"Synecdoche, New York" is playing at Malco's Ridgeway Four.
-- John Beifuss: 529-2394
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