If there is one thing you should know about me, it is that I never love anything right out of the gate. I’m very reticent to change, and I often have lukewarm feelings towards anything new or different. Anyone who knows me will tell you that it takes me a while to warm up to things, even things I’m excited about or looking forward to. For example, last August, Pete Yorn came out with a new album. Now, I love me some Pete Yorn. When Heather over at I Am Fuel, You Are Friends (a fantastic music blog that you absolutely must check out) blogged about Pete and offered up about 20 or so previously unreleased tracks, well, that was one of the happiest days of my life (seriously). I’ve been to at least seven of his concerts and had been zealously awaiting his third major release, so much so that on the day it came out I high-tailed it to Best Buy to pick up a copy because I literally could not wait to pop it in my CD player and get a load of what Pete had been working on for something like three years. I remember getting there right as the store was opening, making a beeline to the new release section, paying with exact change at checkout and run-walking to my car with the goofiest smile on my face. I was so jazzed that I could finally listen to what I had been dreaming about hearing for months and months. I was so excited and then…eh. It’s not to say that “Nightcrawler” is not an excellent album, because it is, it really, really is, definitely one of my favorites from 2006. It’s just that even if it had been the aural equivalent of absolute perfection, I still would have been indifferent to it upon first listen, because that’s just how I roll. I remember texting Andrea to tell her I got it. Here’s how that little convo went down:
Me: “So, I just got the new Pete.”
Andrea: “And?”
Me: “I don’t know. I’m not sure I like it.”
Andrea: “Yeah, that’s not so surprising.”
So there you go.
I guess it’s somewhat of a personality flaw (or “personality quirk” as I like to call it), but I figured out a long time ago that there’s really no changing who you are, at least not when it comes to things like this. That’s why it was shocking to me that I really liked - nay, LOVED – the film “Hollywoodland” when I saw it the other day. I had put it in my Netflix queue weeks ago and didn’t expect it come for a while since it wasn’t even released yet, and I was sort of nonplussed when I ripped open the envelope and found it inside. It just seemed like another one of those goofy, self-serving biopics that Hollywood is so fond of; the only reason I put it in the queue in the first place was because of the glowing reviews Ben Affleck received for his performance in the film at Cannes (wow, that just sounded so insider-y and film savvy, didn’t it? Truthfully, I read about it in People magazine – that’s how everyone gets their news, isn’t it?). I wouldn’t have watched it at all had something even slightly interesting been on TV that night. But nothing was, so I figured, “It’s just going to sit on my nightstand for weeks if I don’t watch it, so why not watch it now?” And, holy crap, am I glad I did.
To summarize, “Hollywoodland” is sort of a dual-story piece about the life of The Adventures of Superman’s George Reeves (Affleck), and his mysterious death, first ruled a suicide but, upon further investigation by the slimy yet ultimately good-hearted private detective, Louis Simo (Adrien Brody), is perhaps not quite what it seems. As Simo takes a deeper look into the life of Reeves, he reveals not a superhero but a man whose life never panned out like he thought it would. Groomed for stardom, with undeniable talent and devastating good looks, Reeves came onto the scene at an interesting time for Hollywood and never seemed to find his niche until he was offered the role of Superman, a part that he was at best reluctant to accept. As he gained more notoriety from the series, he became pigeonholed, with viewers refusing to accept him as anything other than the Man of Steel. After the series ended, he struggled to find work and suffered several failed developmental deals, all which could easily be pointed to as events leading up to a suicide, especially if alcohol or other substances were involved. But what the movie presupposes is: Maybe he didn’t kill himself?
There were certainly others who would have had a motive to end his life. His mistress, MGM head Eddie Mannix’s wife, Toni (Diane Lane), would have been an excellent suspect. After all, he had broken up with her after an affair that lasted for the better part of a decade (during which time she supported him financially) to marry little-known actress Leonore Lemmon. And what about Leonore Lemmon herself? Perceived by many, including Reeves’ mother, to be a gold-digger, perhaps she shot Reeves after becoming frustrated by his lack of career, reputable position in the community, and fortune (He wouldn’t have any of his own money, would he? He was, after all, Toni Mannix’s kept man – he died in the house she bought for him with a bullet delivered from a gun she gave him). And what of Eddie Mannix? He not only knew of his wife’s affair with Reeves, but approved of it; in fact, the two often dined out together with their respective significant others. Could he have killed Reeves for breaking his wife’s heart? All of those situations are examined through the eyes of Simo, who in the course of his investigation begins to see striking similarities between Reeves’ life and his own.
I can’t stress enough how much I loved this film. I mean, I just can’t get over it. Ben Affleck? The horrendous star of crappy fare like “Surviving Christmas” and “Jersey Girl”? The “Gigli” guy? In a good movie? Really? Ben Affleck good in a good movie? Bizarre, right? Bizarre but true. He was fantastic as Reeves, portraying him as a gifted but ultimately disillusioned man who was never enough for himself. While his physical resemblance to the actual Reeves is minimal, he captures the essence of a broken and embattled man perfectly. How he’s not nominated for an Oscar is totally beyond my comprehension. Adrien Brody, as the fictional Louis Simo, was first-rate as well. What I really love about the film is how the stories of Reeves and Simo play off each other; the more Simo understands about Reeves, the more his eyes are opened to the realities of his own life, the mistakes he’s made and the consequences of not at least attempting to fix them. The great thing is, that realization is accomplished without becoming preachy or moralistic. I don’t know much about moviemaking (unless you count watching all three seasons of “Project Greenlight,” though the main lesson I learned from that is that you should never hire Kevin Pollak because he’s a straight up a-hole, and also that if you only release a movie on six screens across the United States, you’re probably not going to make any money), but I would guess that we can thank Allen Coulter, the director, for stopping it from going in that direction (and it was his feature film directorial debut! I couldn’t believe it when I read that). If you haven’t already seen this movie, please, please do. Do yourself a favor (and save some money) by forgoing the renting and buying it straight out – after you see it, I promise you’ll want it in your collection. And coming from me, the girl who is apathetic towards everything the first time she experiences it, that means a lot.
Now go. Your local Best Buy (or other DVD-selling retailer) is waiting.
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