Ghost World opens with the image of cabana
boys dancing around in blackmasks from a 1950's musical. Masks play a prominet role in
this film which functions as how people and phenomenons hide its true emotion ugliness
from history, from the masses, and even from our most intimate counterparts. In making
these point, Ghost World hits dead-on observations about the way we function in pop
culture. But I don't know: I found the key personal relationship in the film as an
unpleasant reminder that some filmmaker's use their projects to perpetuate sexual
dysfunction.In turn, it made the whole venture a bit risky.
Thora Birch plays Enid, a very cynical girl who has just graduated
from high school with her best friend Rebecca (Scarlett Johannsen). Neither are going to
college so they must take a job working for the corporate knock-offs of their liking.
(Rebecca sells decaf mocha at a book store and Enid has trouble at the local multiplex
trying to convince people to super-size their popcorn..) Enid must also re-take an art
class that is being taught by a woman (Illeana Douglas) who seems to have been born with
the term "pretentious" tatooed on her forehead.("I hope you may use to
class to express yourself; just as I have with my digital videos.")In between all of
this unpleasantness, the two wreck havoc on the world they so heavily despise. This
includes a fateful stunt of answering a personal ad placed by Seymour (Buscemi), a schlub
who lives in a lousy apartment and collects old 78's as a hobby. Enid and Seymour connect
after an initial encounter both spiritually and sexually. Will these two odd and lost
souls find happiness? Perhaps, but not necessarily with each other or in this sphere of
existence.
There were glimmers of this movie I absolutely loved: The way that an
oil company ad blares in the background saying "It shouldn't seem odd that an oil
company would love the environment" or the faux 1950's diner that has gansta rap on
the jukebox. This is a world viewed by the main characters as a place where everything is
hiding something deeper or confusing but is too scared to face. Enid and Seymour are two
types who can face the world for its true value and feel all the more alienated because of
it. At its inception, these two come off as a legitimate harbor in the storm for the fake
and the concealed. Birch and Buscemi do a lot through their characters to make this
connection come alive. It feels invigorating enough to anchor the film through all the
social commentary.
Then, the anchor starts to sink. Zwigoff and screenwriter Daniel
Clowes (whose graphic novel serves as the film's basis) take the sexual tension from the
subtext and allows it to overwhelm the story. I sat in the theatre stunned thinking that
the whole scenario reminded me of the self-destructive path that Woody Allen has taken of
late. Mr. Allen has to prove to us that, even at 65, young honnies like Charlize Theron
and Helen Hunt still want to jump his bones. The moment where Seymour and Enid get
intimate felt like a personal fantasy was being played out and not as an important climax
to the story. And sure enough, this morning I read an interview with Clowes who said and I
quote, "I really feel that the relationship between Enid and Seymour represents a
really deep, dark fantasy of Terry's." Damn it all to hell, I was right. And hey, I
wouldn't mind if Zwigoff had taken the relationship and made about something in the
general scheme of the whole picture. Perhaps make the sex between the two as something
that was plastic and phoney which really didn't allow either one any personal
gratification or satisfaction, for that matter.And therein lies the difference between a
film like Ghost World and a film like American Beauty: Lester Burnam's lust
for youthful flesh acted as an obstacle between the fantasy character and
self-actualization. Here, the fantasy is self-actualization and it creates an obsacle for
the audience. Not to mention that this story settles in a place that essentially boxes the
characters into an ending that has the doomed daydreaming aspect of a really awful
songwriter in high school.
It's too bad because I really totally adored good chunks of this
movie.(Like Brad Renfro's character who worked at Greek-owned, Western-themed quick stop.)
Perhaps I was more inclined to focus on the romance than on the social commentary in my
post-meditation phase. And I will not sit here and say that was not somewhat influenced by
the events that occured in this country almost a week ago. Perhaps I too would like to put
a mask over all of the bad things that occur in our world and just try to focus on the
stuff that gives me hope. Perhaps if I had seen the film last weekend instead of this
weekend, the corporate ribbings would have bumped my review up to a 3 and a half. Art has
the unfortunate tendancy to buckle in to subjectivity at times. I promise to revisit Ghost
World in a couple of months to test out this theory. Until then, I must live with the
uncomfortable notion that a world exists where Terry Zwigoff...oops, I mean Seymour can
score with an 18-year old and feel cool again. Where's my corporate logo when I really
need it?
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