Monday, June 12, 2000

Moriarty's Rumblings From The Labs

Harry here, you have enough reading to do... Here's Moriarty!

excerpt from column

A BOILER ROOM, A POETIC SATURN, AND A HEARTBREAKING BOOK

Seeing Scott Caan in that film came as a strange sort of coincidental shock, since one of the other films I watched this weekend was a very small, unreleased independent film called SATURN. It’s a strange, beautiful little film about holding on to pain and letting go of control and about that particular moment when we cross from being the children who are taken care of to the ones who take care of our parents. Leo Burmester, who many of you would recognize as Catfish in THE ABYSS, does knockout work here as a stroke victim, a man locked in a degenerating body, forced to rely on his son for everything. As Drew, the long-suffering son, Scott Caan gives a really subtle, special performance, one that should net him more work if this film is ever seen by people. It should be. I know that the director of the film, R Schmidt, already has another film in the can and ready for release called CRIME AND PUNISHMENT IN SUBURBIA. Maybe that film’s release will provide the impetus to some brave distributor to take a chance with this one. Mira Kirshner, so wonderful in EXOTICA, gives a brave, raw, intuitive performance here as a girl whose life intersects with Drew’s for something that looks like love, but which is ultimately nothing more than convenience, temporary connection. Caan is crushed slowly in this film by the weight of the responsibility he feels for his father, and he handles it in all the wrong ways. He is derailed from school, loses his job, finds himself drinking and getting high every night. He looks for any sensation that might dull the ache he feels for the life that’s passing him by, and it’s wrenching to watch his slide, especially by his father, who is trapped there, a spectator to the ruin he is causing in his own son’s life. This is a film that you don’t just watch… you feel it deeply. It gets inside you. It’s never a big film, and that’s part of its power. It just keeps coming at you with detail after detail, small moment after small moment, until the final accumulated mass of them all crushes us the same way it does Caan. This is not a perfect movie… the ending feels almost too pat for me, too easy… but it’s one that people should see, and it seems to be an announcement of sorts for a new voice worth listening to.

In another act of peculiar synchronicity, I read a book this week that I have to recommend to you that ties in thematically with SATURN, although as an almost inverse mirror of that film’s central relationship. I picked the book up initially because of its title, but I couldn’t put it down once I started flipping through, reading passages. A HEARTBREAKING WORK OF STAGGERING GENIUS (Simon & Schuster) is neither a novel or a non-fiction document. Instead, it is a sort of recreated memory piece, a memoir of sorts for Dave Eggers, one of the founding editors of the short-lived MIGHT magazine. His mother and father both died of cancer within five weeks of each other, leaving Dave, barely old enough to drink, to take care of his nine year old brother Toph. Together, the two of them try to forge a life together in San Francisco, 3000 miles away from the Chicago suburb where they grew up, trying to escape the immense pain they exist in the shadow of, trying to find some way to make this impossible situation work. The book is laugh-out-loud funny in many places, deeply moving in others, and it frequently demolishes the wall between itself and the reader, commenting on itself even as it unfolds. Eggers is a marvelous writer, detailed and emotional and witty and wicked. The most amazing thing about the book is how naked it is. Eggers doesn’t paint himself as perfect. Far from it. His reportage is so honest at times, so brutal, that you wonder if he isn’t exaggerating his own shortcomings for dramatic effect. He’s so open that there’s no doubt he burned some personal bridges with this book. I admire him. I am attacked viciously whenever I reveal personal details in this column or in a review, and I am always amazed to see someone take their pain and their sorrow and turn it into something that helps other people, that speaks to them. Eggers talks about his experience in starting MIGHT magazine with his friends; about his attempts to get onto THE REAL WORLD for the San Francisco cast; about meeting Judd and Puck, two of the people who did make the show; about their infamous MIGHT cover story on the death of Adam “Eight Is Enough” Rich, a hoax that got picked up by wire services, then angrily debunked. Throughout it all, Eggers comes back to the deaths of his parents, working it like a raw nerve. He circles his grief, picking at it, refusing to deal with it, until very late in the book, when he simply rips the band-aid off and lets himself mourn with his whole being. The impact of this change is cataclysmic as a reader. I was deeply touched by this book, by this writer, and I can’t urge you strongly enough to find this book and soak in it. It’s a killer.

See how quickly that went by?

Moriarty Out