Friday, 30 November 2012

WONDER BOYS (2000)


Writers are fascinating creatures. The process of writing something, whatever, a book, a short story, it's a complicated process. And a lonely, sometimes dispiriting one. The reward is the pride of having brought something into the world which would never have existed without you. Writers are secretive, egoist, jealous and deeply, deeply insecure about their work and their abilities. Having had writing ambitions since the first time I realized, years ago, all you needed to write was a pen, some paper and an idea, and having been around others who hold such ambitions too, I am familiar with the psychology of this weird clan of people. And WONDER BOYS is one of those rare films, (like THE SQUID AND THE WHALE) that get it perfectly right.

It deals with a middle-aged creative writing professor (which, along with journalism, is something many writers do as a sort of front, a day job to maintain the illusion of standard working hours), called Grady Tripp (Michael Douglas, transcendent), who is stuck in a rut. His wife is leaving him, he is almost constantly on drugs, he is having an affair with the chancellor of his college, who is the wife of the Head of the English Dept, his last novel THE ARSONIST'S DAUGHTER (very cool name) was a tremendous critical success, but that was seven years ago and the follow-up is a 2700 page (and counting) behemoth which he has no idea how to end.

Into this mess comes severely depressed, compulsive liar, genius young aspiring writer James Leer (Tobey Maguire, mesmerizing) who takes Grady on a surprisingly fucked-up weekend, involving dead dogs, weed, Marilyn Monroe's wedding jacket, several manuscripts, a transvestite, a stolen car, the stolen car's angry owner who doesn't like being called Vernon, and a literary festival.

I hope this doesn't make it sound like an art film, or a film only for lit buffs. The film benefits from a psychotically brilliant screenplay, which is one of the best I have EVER seen. Line after exceptional line. Sample this.

Grady: - He said some things that led me to believe that the car was his.
Crabs: - Such as?
Grady: - "That's my car, you motherfucker!"

The acting dept is outstanding. Michael Douglas steals the show with an understated, full of insecurities, trying his best not to let his life fall apart. Tobey is unexpectedly good, mysterious and very weird. Frances McDormand is exquisite as Douglas' love interest, who is unwilling to wait forever. Also of note is Douglas' gay editor Crabs, played by Robert Downey Jr. with his trademark ebullience.

A damn near-perfect dramedy, a fantastic character study, this is to writers what ALMOST FAMOUS was to rockstars.

8/10.

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