shoegazer

I've just finished watching Charlie Kaufman's "Adaptation". I used to wonder what all the fuss was about, especially after seeing "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", and liking it but not being blown away. I suspected he was one of those American talents whom like minded film buffs preferred to the less accessible European writers and filmmakers.

The film opens as "Charlie Kaufman", the writer's alter ego, attempts to write an "un-Hollywood" adaptation of an unfilmable book, "The Orchid Thief" by Susan Orlean, while his twin brother Donald rises to fame and fortune writing formulaic hack screenplays for major studios. Charlie commits the ultimate sin when, after several failed attempts, he decides to write himself into the story.

Charlie Kaufman, Susan Orlean and the book are all real, or at least, exist in real life. Twin Donald, however, is not. The movie is not about the book, but is about the process of writing a screenplay that tells about the process of writing a screenplay about the book. Confused yet?

Watching this film, though, and I get the feeling that Charlie Kaufman knows about that feeling of incompleteness, the struggle to become rich and famous without prostituting yourself, the search for success without compromise. It permeates the first half of the movie, the one before Donald gets to lend a hand in "improving" the story. (Don't ask.)

This feeling, it's what I couldn't put into words, when Van and I had Sunday lunch and I kept staring out the window trying to lift my spirits. It was nothing to do with her, of course, and nothing to do with Sunday lunch. It was just that familiar feeling of slowly circling the drain, of watching time pass and life turn ordinary. I bet he felt the same way, once.

Labels: movies