“Pictures of Hope”

The Secret Lives of Dentists
directed by Alan Rudolph
written by Craig Lucas
based on the novella The Age of Grief by Jane Smiley
starring Campbell Scott, Hope Davis, Denis Leary and Robin Tunney

American Splendor
written and directed by Robert Pulcini & Shari Springer Berman
based on the comic book series American Splendor by Harvey Pekar
and the comic book series Our Cancer Year by Joyce Brabner
starring Paul Giamatti, Hope Davis, Harvey Pekar, Joyce Brabner and James Urbaniak

            To compete in the packed world of independent film, a picture has to be creative and clever.  It shouldn’t have to be, but it seems this is the way it goes lately in the time of backwards narratives, inventive twists and surprise endings.  Eventually films arrive that are just too clever and in their cleverness are actually cliché and trite.
        Alan Rudolph is rarely a director who appears in touch with what is novel, what is funny and what is a maximum tone with which to tell a story.  He has almost ruined my favorite book (Breakfast of Champions), my favorite actress (Emily Watson in Trixie), and now has almost ruined all faith I have left in him with his latest wreck The Secret Lives of Dentists.        
         David Hurst (Scott) is a dentist, a profession which deals with the importance of maintenance in the prevention of decay.  One day, he discovers that his sustenance isn’t up to what it should be.  A patient (Leary) makes an embarrassing scene in a full auditorium declaring that his new filling has fallen out, and worse, he witnesses his wife Dana being intimate with another man.  It doesn’t involve even a kiss, but the event is enough to spark extreme paranoia over the future of their family.         
        They have three daughters, the youngest of whom is going through a phase where she hates Mommy and constantly cries for Daddy who has to hold her so much she seems to be an extra limb.  The oldest daughter is often nauseous, a symptom, her physician says, is a result of family problems.  David associates both worries with the affair that Dana may or may not be having.  He begins to notice more and more when she goes out alone or comes home late.          
         The family drama is intense and genuine and Scott and Davis play the couple with convincing affection, comfortable yet detached.  If the story stuck with this alone, it could have been admirably tender.  But it doesn’t.  The embarrassing patient becomes an imaginary conscience for David, one of vulgar and inimical advice.  He comes across as an evil Jiminy Cricket crossed with Dean Stockwell’s Al on “Quantum Leap” (because the children can sometimes see him, I think), crossed with Fight Club’s Tyler Durden, whose wardrobe is completely mimicked here. 
            Every time Leary is on screen, and it reaches past the point of excess, the movie fails.  Then there are moments which attempt black comedy and are neither dark enough nor funny enough.  Take, as an example, David’s pondering of the term, “kick out” which Rudolph plays out literally with Davis getting booted out of a doorway and then disturbingly kicked in the stomach by Scott while the girls cheer him on.  As unnecessary as this is, even more fumbled is the musical segment which takes place during a climactic week with the flu that brings the family together.  David imagines his dental assistant Laura (Tunney) as a nightclub singer belting out “Fever” during what could have been the most gut-wrenching scenes involving the middle daughter’s near fatal temperatures. 
           Whether screenwriter Craig Lucas missed the whole point of Smiley’s novella or thought it could use a boost of misguided style, there is no reason for Leary’s character to exist so profusely nor is there a need for comedy unless somehow achieved by a better filmmaker.  Other elements, like the introductive and conclusive voice-overs involving facts about teeth and dental work, are too common in these kinds of pictures to create any sense of achievement aside from a showcase of talent from the two leads.  They are consistent, though, and deserve to be seen in far better films.
 

           American Splendor is a rare film which is so clever it goes past being too clever and comes back to being brilliant.  As a concept it seems way too convoluted yet in delivery, directors Pulcini and Berman craft a perfect collage of storytelling through narrative, documentary and bits of animation.   
          Harvey Pekar tells his life story through a voice-over while Paul Giamatti potrays him in reenacted scenes from his autobiographical comics.  He has lived in Cleveland all his life and worked until his recent retirement as a file clerk in a veteran’s hospital.  In the early 70s he happened to meet Robert Crumb (Urbaniak) who was on his way to becoming the famed underground comic book artist recently celebrated in Terry Zwigoff’s acclaimed documentary.  Pekar became friends with Crumb and pitched an idea for a comic book about everyday life, as perceived by him, and together they created American Splendor. 
           He became a minor celebrity with the comics and many appearances on Late Night with David Letterman, but he continued to work at the hospital because his dream job never did pay the bills.  He meets Joyce Brabner (Davis), a fan of his, and thanks to his pathetic charm and honesty, she falls in love with him comparatively to the many women who have been attracted to Charles Bukowski or Woody Allen. 
           As unbelievable as anything in the film appears, the documentary footage defends each and every character.  We are treated to the real Harvey and Joyce as they bicker and make fun of each other in a way that you know they were meant for each other.  You also get to see the real Toby Radloff, long-time friend and proud nerd who is first introduced as a character that appears so exaggerated there seems to be no possibility of his existence.  Yet there he is when a shot ends and the camera pulls back to show a behind-the-scenes moment in which Giamatti and  Judah Friedlander (Radloff in the narrative) observe their unlikely models from a distance, occasionally chuckling to themselves. 
           Aside from showing moments behind the camera, drawings by Crumb and the rest of the American Splendor artists are animated into some sequences and later a play is shown with Donal Logue and Molly Shannon portraying the couple.   American Splendor is almost so postmodern and self-indulgent that it almost gets confused inside of itself, but it always maintains clarity.  In a possible comment on recent biopics which go great distance to reconstruct familiar television appearances or events, all the David Letterman appearances are actual clips with the real Pekar shown on a TV screen while the fictional Brabner watches from the green room. 
           It will remain to be seen if the film is as sharp and funny on repeat viewings.  A lot of the picture shares its honest approach with Ghost World, another underground comic adaptation which has lost some of its original appeal and lacked the multiple levels that give an edge to American Splendor.  Whether that edge will serve beneficial or not in time makes its cult potentiality more questionable. 
           For now, though, this is a movie to be seen.  There is nothing like it, despite some similarities to Ang Lee’s Hulk, using concepts which work far better here.  Don’t be scared off by the conceit or pretension that you might expect from how the film is described.  Every bit is entertaining and never seems contrived.  Like the existence of Pekar’s world, some things just have to be believed. 

Get your Harvey and Joyce Halloween costumes now, they'll be going too fast next month!