There were elements to Charlie Kaufman's new movie that were spectacular - as close to genius as can be found in film. My expectation for this movie made use of a trend I see occasionally in art, whereby a highly eccentric and visionary artist refines their style in later years and tends toward a subtler or more encrypted presentation. What I didn't know, until after my second viewing, was that Charlie Kaufman wrote this story as a theater piece over a decade ago, before his last feature film, and used almost an identical script as the basis for this movie. Rather, I had forgotten. It is obvious -- in the script he is right in the thick of the wave of existential and neurotic wanderings that began with his Spike Jonze collaborations and would lead to what I now see is his most complete picture, Synecdoche, New York. I expected Anomalisa to build on Synecdoche's deep thematic quality and emotional devastation and make a more refined, subtle, widely-accessible and universally human picture. Unfortunately, despite some truly wonderful new developments made to an old script, this film is extremely "Charlie Kaufman". I would say that it "falls into" Kaufman as the film progresses. It's hard to believe that he wrote that first part in the midst of his most prolific filmmaking period, as the humor is far more brilliant than I can ever remember watching from him. Most of this entrance section is perfectly original and ingenious filmmaking. All that it lacks is the emotion and richness of human experience that should come as the film develops along, and that we saw spotted throughout Eternal Sunshine and thoroughly embedded in the flesh of Synecdoche. While this richness and humanity come, I think, they bring along some of what I would call, being a serious fan of the filmmaker, cheap eccentricities.
Despite the fact that this script was mostly written during or before 2005, it has some elements that I never saw in Kaufman film before, nor in any other film. The character Lisa is a total anomaly in the film world -- ingeniously crafted. Characters like the cab driver and the bellhop strike a cord of humor and humanity unlike I've ever seen from such minor characters.
The basic premise is too Kaufman, and so I prefer to think that the heart of this film is not in its premise, or rather not in its narrative premise, but in its moment-by-moment execution. For me there is no cut-and-dry arc that the rest of the film supports -- it is all loose, wet moments that share characters and a world.
The basic narrative premise is too Kaufman; the development of the main character is too Kaufman; often the script is a little too Kaufman for this to be his greatest work. The main character is also significantly lacking in likability and charm, and is not Kaufman enough. These are the main flaws of the movie as I see it.
It's mostly the elements that are beyond Kaufman that make this movie incredible. In Lisa Charlie Kaufman reached beyond his centripetal self and grasped a pure, sparkling thing from the sphere of unrealized art. She's a miracle even to me, for whom everyone has a unique vocal timbre and facial character. That fact is amazing. The sexuality scene is also far beyond Kaufman terra. It stands alone in filmic depictions of sex and intimacy.
I have not mentioned anything but the script. I love the animation style and how it is used here. It's the right way to do this script, I think. The cinematography, if it is that, is often fantastic. I recall the musical score being gently flooring in those moments of intimacy --- resting on fifths based on the third scale degree. This is what I recall. Whatever it was it was an incredible complement to the scene.
This movie is so good. But it's somewhat disappointing, and more flawed than I thought it would be. There's genius and there's entrenchment in previous ideas. I wonder whether he would make a film like this if he started from scratch now. It's hard for me to "love" the film, I suppose, but I've got something for it, and I recognize that it is a tremendous, if slightly inadequate, work of art.
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