REVIEW: Synecdoche, New York (?)

In the 10 days or so since seeing Synecdoche, New York, I've found myself mystified while trying to pin down its best moments. Like a dream that you can't clearly remember, it's a movie that you know is special for some reason - even if you can't quite put your finger on it.

I might as well have just described any of Charlie Kaufman's movies, from Being John Malkovich to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Despite some striking similarities in plot and character, his is a collection that mostly defies categorization. Are they comedy, drama, tragedy - all three? His latest offering, Synecdoche, New York, has been long awaited by a rabid Kaufman cult following comprised mostly of people who see themselves in a particular character - or see Kaufman as a sulking writer illustrating his own life. In a recent interview with Colin Covert, however, Kaufman explained, "I want to be careful in drawing parallels between characters I write and myself because people seem to take great pleasure and feel a great confidence in doing that for me. And I kind of at this point am not enjoying it too much."

Fine with me, Charlie. I mostly go to your movies just to get weirded out for a while.

Synecdoche, New York certainly doesn't waste any time giving your eyebrows a workout. Our protagonist, Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), and his distant wife, Adele Lack (Catherine Keener), are two lost souls struggling to remember why they ended up together in the first place. Time as we know it appears to be relative in Caden's world (in the same interview, Kaufman explains: "My experience of time is that the speed at which it moves changes constantly, and certainly gets faster and faster as I get older. There are moments of waking up in the morning and thinking of some event that happened 10 years ago and being incredulous. That understanding of time is represented in the movie."). The majority of the film chronicles Caden's lifelong struggle to write and produce a play representative of his life. This means, of course, that the production won't be complete until Caden dies - a thought that he (and Adele, who leaves him for Germany early on) obsesses over constantly.

On paper it seems like a simple story, and in hindsight it seems like a simple story. But while you're actually watching it, Synecdoche, New York is about as simple as taking a calculus course in Arabic. Despite what you might know before seeing this film (the definition and pronunciation of "synecdoche", for example), you may still lack a significant amount of esoteric knowledge necessary for processing what's going on, such as the signs and symptoms of the disorder known as Cotard's Syndrome. Does this take away from your enjoyment of Synecdoche, New York? Probably, and for most people.

But as much as I was flailing around trying to keep my head above water, I found myself frequently laughing at the absurdity of it all. Like a David Lynch film, the best part about Synecdoche, New York (and most of Kaufman's movies) is the thrill of experiencing what amounts to a lucid dream. Bizarre metaphorical settings (e.g., a continually burning house) and an incredible job of artificially aging the characters only heighten the surrealism. And if all this goes over your head, or if you're conversely somehow able to easily understand the complexities of Charlie Kaufman's stories, there's always the outstanding acting to appreciate.

As Caden, Philip Seymour Hoffman turns his Self -Loathe-o-Meter to "max", ending up somewhere between his characters in Happiness and Love Liza. There's little doubt Hoffman has moved beyond his years as a supporting actor, though part of me still enjoys him more in tasty bit parts like last year's Charlie Wilson's War. Catherine Keener (who also starred in Being John Malkovich) doesn't bring much new to the table here, but Samantha Morton (In America, Minority Report) shows considerable range playing Caden's muse. Everybody else fills in the gaps with their own memorable moments, but the beating heart of the movie remains with Hoffman, who somehow maintains the semblance of a complete character in this crazy dream.

Uh...

But a confusing movie doesn't necessarily equal a brilliant movie. In fact, the inaccessibility of much of the material on first viewing prevents the viewer from connecting with the intense emotions playing out on screen, particularly in Hoffman's character. It's like anonymously eavesdropping on a stranger's therapy sessions. With time, however, and in the case of this movie with multiple viewings, you might find yourself fully immersed in this person's world. I probably won't find out until I see it again, but in the meantime I'm happy with Synecdoche, New York as a break from the formulaic norm.

On the other hand, writing about it made me feel exactly like one of Kaufman's struggling playwrights. Maybe that was the point. I haven't read any reviews of Synecdoche, New York but I've witnessed a number of bloggers having fits while trying. Add me to the list, I suppose.

And Charlie Kaufman says he doesn't relate to his characters...

Grade:
Writing - ?
Acting - ?
Production - ?
Emotional Impact - ?
Music - ?
Social Significance - ?

Total: ??/??= ??% = ? (Take that, Kaufman!)


...alright, alright. 90%, A-.