“You just can’t go around doing whatever you feel like. There are rules.”
It might be a bit premature to say that I’ve never been affected like Sam Mendes’ American Beauty has but I’ll say it anyway.
I can honestly say that the last time I was this excited over a movie was back in 1996 with Trainspotting. In agonizing preparation for the movie to reach my shores I read the book, bought the soundtrack (at import price then!) and converted several friends to feel the same. So you can imagine my disappointment at being turned away at the theatre for not being old enough to see a Restricted movie.
Of course I’ll admit the main reason I was excited for American Beauty was that it was a Kevin Spacey film. Not just because he was buffing up (though it crossed my mind more than once....hehehe) but because it seemed to me to be the role he was born to play. One of the things I’ve always liked about Spacey is how he looks like he should be a burnt-out middle aged family man trapped in a loveless marriage, fantasizing about young girls in his spare time. He’s not of course, and that’s why we love him. But still, all that hanging around Jack Lemmon (rent Glengarry Glen Ross! Now!!) is bound to rub off some day.
Anyway, back to the film. There’s already backlash about how American Beauty is nothing new. How the shallowness of suburban life was examined in recent films like Happiness and the Ice Storm. Jack Lemmon even won an Oscar (hint hint) for his portrayal of a man going through a nasty mid life crisis in 1973’s Save the Tiger. I think a lot of the backlash has to do with the industry’s inbred dislike of anything suburban or non-city related. As if the only real human concerns of any significance happen in New York and L.A...
Is this film important? That’s a question I’m tired of answering (though I do in my Belle and Sebastian rant). If a film’s good then isn’t it important? Having said that American Beauty is a really, really good film.
The photography is stunning, if a little heavy-handed with its persistent symbolism of red roses. The script crackles and its made all the better with the impressive cast. Although I’d like to take this space to say I thought that Mena Suvari’s portrayal of Angela, the teen vamp who Spacey’s character falls for, is spot-on. Playing a dumb blonde is a lot harder than it looks but she does it wonderfully.
But of course the movie belongs to Kevin Spacey and rightfully so. Pathetic one minute, daringly assertive the next, he makes the character of Lester Burnham his own. I can’t think of any other actor, with the possible exception of Dustin Hoffman 20 years ago, who could have made this role so likeable and believable.
I could go on about how this really struck a chord with my poor suburban
soul but that’s besides the point. Suffice to say I rarely see a
movie twice, let alone in the theatre. But after seeing American
Beauty twice in three weeks I can honestly say I’m still not sick of
it. This is a movie that stays with you for a long time and I urge
you to see it.
Kathleen Gallagher (Oct. 20/99)