American BeautyShouldn't life be more than just a series of mundane encounters, day after day, just another step toward the grave? Shouldn't it mean something? That is the underlying question of American Beauty, a drama about a suburban family and the implosion of its superficial veneer in the face of honest acknowledgement of what happiness is and should be. When Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) is confronted with mounting pressure from work and home via a constant escalation of beratement and chastisement, the proverbial tea kettle of his soul whistles and sounds the clarion call of his rebellion and the rebirth of his spirit.
|
|
American Beauty is the portrait of a fractured family, a condensation of the anxieties, doubts, and purported values of this cross-section of upper-middle class America at the edge of the millennium. Lester is a cog in the corporate machine by day, a browbeaten dog by night in his homestead. He misses the connection with his family which has eroded over time, with the implication being that as he and his wife, Carolyn (Annette Bening), have pursued material interests over spiritual ones, their souls have become disharmonious. He claims that his family hates him, but their behavior toward him is more akin to pity or disappointment; in truth, Lester hates himself, and what he has allowed himself to become. An ultimatum at work reveals how pathetic his life is, but the real trigger for his mid-life crisis is his fixation on a pretty high school girl named Angela Hayes (Mena Suvari), a friend and fellow cheerleader of his daughter, Jane (Thora Birch). Lester's fixation on Angela is but the first domino to fall in his determination to take a hard left on his road of life--sporting a classic Pontiac Firebird he loved in his youth, no less. Lester's obsession on the nymphet with the jaded exterior is similar to Vladimir Nabokov's novel, "Lolita"--both Angela and Lolita even share the same last name--while also recalling a similar obsession found in Eric Rohmer's film, Claire's Knee, where an older man similarly pines for the affection of a pretty young woman; Lester and Angela's fated encounter also takes place during a rain storm. Lester's fantasies for Angela are vivid and explosions of rose petals hint that it isn't really Angela he longs for, but something else which has eluded him, something he desperately tries to grasp like mist. This is reflected in part in Carolyn's hobby of tending roses, complete with gardening clogs to match her pruning shears. To Lester's family, what superficially looks like an attempt to sabotage his life couldn't be farther from the truth. The audience is compelled to rally behind his rebellion against the consumerist and corporate shackles imprisoning him, as he wistfully recalls the lost moments of his youth, moments where his future was ahead of him, and not already threatening to crush him under its heel. Lester's narration lulls us into a transcendent tranquility, as from the start he establishes that he has already died. He speaks of how life flashes before your eyes at the moment of death, which makes his testament so important--because what came before the events of American Beauty barely matters, only the reclamation of that life at the end. It is not merely a proposal to appreciate our lives, but more importantly to live them and let the beauty of the world flow through us.
Along with Lester, American Beauty also follows the transformations and revelations of Carolyn and Jane, influenced by Lester's own course correction of life, and how they react to it. Carolyn is wound so tight, one expects her to snap at the slightest imperfection or unexpected reaction--which she does, usually targeting Lester in the process with her vitriol. Her impression of happiness comes from projecting an image of success in order to be successful, a mantra echoed by her realty rival (and subsequent lover), Buddy Kane (Peter Gallagher). Her image is that of the modern business woman, wearing a suit even when pruning her roses, and sporting a Hillary Rodham Clinton-esque hairstyle. Her measure of self-worth is based on how she measures her success, although she feigns otherwise. When she fails to sell a house, she privately abuses herself in anger, slapping herself when she is convinced she is being "weak". Carolyn responds to Lester's change with anger, convinced he is "giving up" on the family, and not trying to succeed anymore. Her nigh-complete imprisonment in a lifestyle of artificiality and performing her role as a provider is so comprehensive, that she is the one--not Lester--who engenders the most pity from the audience, because she appears to be truly lost. Jane's own rebellion is one against the perceptions of desirability imposed on teenagers by long-established prescriptions of what beauty should be versus what it is; her companionship with Angela is the best example of this. Angela proclaims to be a model; she is physically attractive, but is callous and vain. Jane is a sympathetic soul, but her self-esteem is so withered that she clings to Angela out of vicarious desire. When the seemingly inscrutable Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley), a boy Jane's age who lives next door, is caught filming her with his handheld camcorder, she initially reacts with disgust, but secretly harbors an interest in being watched, in being noticed. Her attraction to Ricky--and his to her--comes not so much because they are both quite, sensitive souls, but because they are receptive to one another's views of the world and the sense of displacement that follows. Ricky and Jane also represent a generation divide; their parents appear trapped inside a world with immutable rules and laws which strangle them like weeds. Ricky's father, Colonel Frank Fitts (Chris Cooper), is a tyrannical disciplinarian, desperately convinced that in order to love his son, he must beat him into submission. Like Carolyn, Frank appears more like a victim of this artificial doctrine of happiness, driving him to negativity and even hate, a sentiment compounded by his repressed homosexuality. Also like Carolyn, he is essentially an "enforcer" of this perception of normalcy, like an antibody in a system which seeks to expel those like the newly awakened Lester or others who don't fit in with his view of what happiness should be.
When American Beauty debuted, it was a blockbuster hit--although made on a comparatively small budget--and was lauded commercially and critically. It has become a beloved classic, a meditation on what it means to pursue happiness in the face of an awakening. The film teases at this in part, never wholly approaching the idea that Lester's rejection of the norms imposed on him is the way for everyone, just for him. American Beauty also teases the idea about how Lester dies from the start; from a morbid recording made by Ricky and Jane about "killing her dad" to Carolyn's sudden interest in visiting the firing range as a means of empowerment, the film keeps you guessing like a mystery, since life is a mystery first and foremost. A large part of the popularity of American Beauty comes from its readiness to scrutinize popular values attributed to America, and assess its worth as a result. This was becoming a popular trend for movies made only a couple of years prior the September 11 attacks--an event so collectively significant, that it would turn these values yet again on their head--including movies like Fight Club and Office Space. The challenge proposed by these films is that if you cannot understand yourself and what brings you joy in life, you are doomed to suffer as a result. Appropriately, American Beauty is filled with scenes which are themselves beautiful, and instantly recognizable and relatable to moments in our own lives, expounding on basic human truths. Out of many, my favorite comes near the end of the film, when Angela and Lester share a heartfelt conversation in the kitchen. The lighting is cool in contrast to the passionate fire that burned between them, now relented in favor of honest sympathy. She asks him how he is doing, and he replies that it has been a long time since anyone has asked him that, followed by his response of "I'm great". That's happiness, and how life should be.
Recommended for: Fans of a compelling drama about life, the concept of happiness, and what normal is versus what our lives are meant to be. Filled with committed performances and a story which resonates, American Beauty is thought-provoking and engaging.
Along with Lester, American Beauty also follows the transformations and revelations of Carolyn and Jane, influenced by Lester's own course correction of life, and how they react to it. Carolyn is wound so tight, one expects her to snap at the slightest imperfection or unexpected reaction--which she does, usually targeting Lester in the process with her vitriol. Her impression of happiness comes from projecting an image of success in order to be successful, a mantra echoed by her realty rival (and subsequent lover), Buddy Kane (Peter Gallagher). Her image is that of the modern business woman, wearing a suit even when pruning her roses, and sporting a Hillary Rodham Clinton-esque hairstyle. Her measure of self-worth is based on how she measures her success, although she feigns otherwise. When she fails to sell a house, she privately abuses herself in anger, slapping herself when she is convinced she is being "weak". Carolyn responds to Lester's change with anger, convinced he is "giving up" on the family, and not trying to succeed anymore. Her nigh-complete imprisonment in a lifestyle of artificiality and performing her role as a provider is so comprehensive, that she is the one--not Lester--who engenders the most pity from the audience, because she appears to be truly lost. Jane's own rebellion is one against the perceptions of desirability imposed on teenagers by long-established prescriptions of what beauty should be versus what it is; her companionship with Angela is the best example of this. Angela proclaims to be a model; she is physically attractive, but is callous and vain. Jane is a sympathetic soul, but her self-esteem is so withered that she clings to Angela out of vicarious desire. When the seemingly inscrutable Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley), a boy Jane's age who lives next door, is caught filming her with his handheld camcorder, she initially reacts with disgust, but secretly harbors an interest in being watched, in being noticed. Her attraction to Ricky--and his to her--comes not so much because they are both quite, sensitive souls, but because they are receptive to one another's views of the world and the sense of displacement that follows. Ricky and Jane also represent a generation divide; their parents appear trapped inside a world with immutable rules and laws which strangle them like weeds. Ricky's father, Colonel Frank Fitts (Chris Cooper), is a tyrannical disciplinarian, desperately convinced that in order to love his son, he must beat him into submission. Like Carolyn, Frank appears more like a victim of this artificial doctrine of happiness, driving him to negativity and even hate, a sentiment compounded by his repressed homosexuality. Also like Carolyn, he is essentially an "enforcer" of this perception of normalcy, like an antibody in a system which seeks to expel those like the newly awakened Lester or others who don't fit in with his view of what happiness should be.
When American Beauty debuted, it was a blockbuster hit--although made on a comparatively small budget--and was lauded commercially and critically. It has become a beloved classic, a meditation on what it means to pursue happiness in the face of an awakening. The film teases at this in part, never wholly approaching the idea that Lester's rejection of the norms imposed on him is the way for everyone, just for him. American Beauty also teases the idea about how Lester dies from the start; from a morbid recording made by Ricky and Jane about "killing her dad" to Carolyn's sudden interest in visiting the firing range as a means of empowerment, the film keeps you guessing like a mystery, since life is a mystery first and foremost. A large part of the popularity of American Beauty comes from its readiness to scrutinize popular values attributed to America, and assess its worth as a result. This was becoming a popular trend for movies made only a couple of years prior the September 11 attacks--an event so collectively significant, that it would turn these values yet again on their head--including movies like Fight Club and Office Space. The challenge proposed by these films is that if you cannot understand yourself and what brings you joy in life, you are doomed to suffer as a result. Appropriately, American Beauty is filled with scenes which are themselves beautiful, and instantly recognizable and relatable to moments in our own lives, expounding on basic human truths. Out of many, my favorite comes near the end of the film, when Angela and Lester share a heartfelt conversation in the kitchen. The lighting is cool in contrast to the passionate fire that burned between them, now relented in favor of honest sympathy. She asks him how he is doing, and he replies that it has been a long time since anyone has asked him that, followed by his response of "I'm great". That's happiness, and how life should be.
Recommended for: Fans of a compelling drama about life, the concept of happiness, and what normal is versus what our lives are meant to be. Filled with committed performances and a story which resonates, American Beauty is thought-provoking and engaging.