A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Monday, August 19, 2024

Love Liza (Todd Louiso, 2002)

Philip Seymour Hoffman in Love Liza

Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kathy Bates, Jack Kehler, Sarah Koskoff, Stephen Tobolowsky. Screenplay: Gordy Hoffman. Cinematography: Lisa Renzler. Production design: Stephen Beatrice. Film editing: Katz, Anne Stein. Music: Jim O'Rourke. 

Love Liza is a screwball tragedy. Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Wilson Joel, deep into grieving for his wife, who recently committed suicide. To ease his grief, he takes to huffing gasoline fumes. (It's implied that his wife asphyxiated herself in their garage.) Through a farcical sequence of misunderstandings brought about by his addiction to the fumes, he winds up making friends with Denny (Jack Kehler), an enthusiast for remote-controlled model boats. At this point, the film turns into a kind of road movie, and Wilson's spirits temporarily rise. But all the while he is carrying his wife's suicide note, which he discovered under a pillow on their bed. His mother-in-law (Kathy Bates) and others urge him to open the envelope and read the note, but Wilson fears that it will tell him things he doesn't want to know. It's a remarkably eccentric film that reminds me of Hal Hartley's movies in that you're never quite sure what direction the characters will go next. Hoffman's brother, Gordy, wrote the screenplay, which won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at Sundance, and actor Todd Louiso, in his debut as a feature director, handles the story's frequent and abrupt variations of tone well. The cast gives it their all, especially Hoffman, who provides the right fragility for his character, and Kehler, who makes us believe that Denny wouldn't have cut and run in his first encounter with the obviously disturbed Wilson. It took me a while to adjust to the film's departures from convention, including some background music and songs by Jim O'Rourke that sometimes feel like they're angling away from what's on screen. Inevitably, too, the story of Hoffman's death from an overdose of drugs colors our reactions to his character in the film.