American Beauty
OK, everyone take a deep breath. American Beauty is a solid film, but “A masterpiece!” it most assuredly ain’t. Its brash confidence, expertly paced narrative and excellent performances by three of the principals ride it over the flaws, but flaws they remain. It’s safe to rave about any Spacey performance sight unseen, and such is the case in American Beauty; he chronicles Lester Burnham’s mid-life crisis with an admirable balance of genuine pathos and broad humor, no easy feat. Annette Bening doesn’t come away unscathed, however – as Lester’s shallow, opportunistic wife, she struggles admirably (though ultimately fails) to break out of the caricature the screenwriters have provided her. Better is Jane Burnham as Lester’s daughter Jane, who plays against stereotype by rejecting her mother’s attempt at reconciliation with a “I don’t feel like having a Kodak moment, mom”, and gets a slap in the face for returning her years of casual dismissal with one perfect tit-for-tat.
Suburban anomie is a familiar theme (Blue Velvet, The Ice Storm) and American Beauty breaks no new ground in its angst-y bourgeoisie tone, though the specifics are absorbing throughout. When Lester “wakes up” from 20 years of sedated middle-class life and quits his job (memorably blackmailing his boss at the same time), he finds a compadre in his 18 year-old neighbor Ricky Fitts, who sells him pot while simultaneously videotaping his daughter on the sly and living under the calloused thumb of his military-schooled father. As the brooding, intense Ricky, Wes Bentley gives #3 of the aforementioned excellent performances; the charged disciplinary relationship between he and his father (who makes him take bi-annual drug tests and beats him indiscriminately) is well-drawn and pitched perfectly.
Lusting after his daughter’s cheerleading friend Angela, working out to impress same and finding the simple joy of standing up to his domineering wife to shake his family out of their self-imposed drudgery, that Spacey can make us empathetic toward loser Lester is testament to his skill. American Beauty also looks at the parasitic relationship between Jane and Angela with honesty: at least, initially.
American Beauty falters in its denouement, forcing what were unique individuals into familiar, unchallenging plot devices (the confrontations between Jane/Angela and Angela/Lester are particularly jarring – suddenly they are People with Feelings, a revelation that rings hollow). After charting Lester’s brief rebellion intelligently and with an unflinching eye for decadence, we are treated to a closing expository voiceover which tells us exactly what to think about it all. For a film which previously allows the audience the freedom to make up its own mind, American Beauty loses faith in us in the final reel, too desperate in wanting to make a profound statement about Taking Charge of Your Life and Not Taking it for Granted. Anyone can pick up a suburban rock and look at the worms underneath; we needn’t have them pointed out with neon signs.
Disclaimer: I might have been easier on this film had it not been trumpeted so brazenly by the general media; just wanted to inject a little critical sanity. I say again – American Beauty is a very good film, well worth seeing, and held my interest throughout with intriguing characters, intelligent dialogue and (until the end) a largely unpredictable, absorbing narrative arc. I’d sit through it again just to watch Lester’s triumphant grin when his wife walks home and demands to know why there’s a new Firebird in the driveway. By way of explanation, he thrusts his fist in the air and posits: “I rule!”
- Jared O'Connor
PS: For a good laugh, check out Roger Ebert’s review of American Beauty here – tell me he isn’t just a little too cathartic in his defense of Lester’s May-December lust.......I worry about that guy.........
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All Content © 1997, 1998, 1999 Jared O'Connor and Michael Baker