Synecdoche, New York
Thursday, November 20th, 2008I saw Synecdoche, New York last Friday. Before I saw it I read Roger Eberts review. I thought it was strange that he didn’t really talk about the actual movie as much as he did the thoughts he had while he was watching it the thoughts he had while thinking about it later and the thoughts that sprang out of those thoughts. He mentioned some of the actors and the writer/director but not in in the way a normal movie reviewer would mention them, if he referenced the actors performance’s at all it was simply in passing while making a different and arguably more substantial point.
There are dozens of ways to come at this film but I am going to come at it from the idea of simultaneous understanding. Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman) wakes up one morning which, I have since learned takes place over the course of several months (don’t pay attention while youre at the movie just get swept away and do the research later. Its one of those. Everyone is going to have their own thoughts. The movie unfolds magically like a Pynchon novel. You never know which line or scene was meant to be illuminating in some way and which line or scene was thrown in because the ‘director’ thought it would be funny) and he starts to fall apart physically. He gets hit in the head when a pipe bursts in his bathroom, he finds pustules on his skin, he had blood in his urine and stool and this all happens while his marriage beings to fall apart while his work, he is a local theatre director is Schenectady, NY, leaves him progressively more unsatisfied. I think, personally, that the concept of the simultaneous understanding comes from these two trajectories. On one hand the more sick becomes he beings to see the direction that his life is heading which is towards its end. As the movie rolls on he becomes more and more afflicted with various physical and mental pains. The other trajectory begins when he loses control on the things he can control specifically his wife his child his work and his image of himself. He is given a genius grants, his wife leaves him to be a famous artists in Germany and raises and tattoos their child who becomes the lover of his wifes best friend. Its like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters. I kind of thought of it as a weird mitosis. His life broke apart into two separate but inseperable lives. This creates a vortex and Charlie Kaufman invites us to sit in the center of it for the longest two hours in the history of film.
There is a spot, i think, at the end of the list of the great movie of all time for Synecdoche, New York. It would be like: #100 is “what ever movie you think is the 100th greatest movie of all time” and then theres Synecdoche, New York. Its like the ‘all movie’ it contains little fragments of everything swirling around in a bizarre tornado of frequently confused sorrow and humor.
i cant say for sure that i liked it but it made a very deep impact on me, although im not sure in what way.
I suppose i need to see it again.
