Friday, October 01, 2010

Adam

In Adam, a boy meets a girl.  He loses her.  Maybe he gets her back.  We’ve seen this before.  But this film has an angle.

Adam has Asperger’s syndrome.  Asperger’s is a kind of high-level autism that manifests itself, among other ways, through an inability to intuit the emotions of others.  In fact, the world of social interaction, all those little gestures and words that most people intuitively understand and navigate, mystifies Asperger’s people.  Asperger’s people tend to perseverate on a subject, boring deeply into an area of interest and thinking and talking about it to the exclusion of nearly all else, which can bore the hell out of those without it – and Asperger’s people can’t read the signs of boredom.  Asperger’s people generally don’t lie; they eschew nuance; and there’s something about the unique way their brains are wired that often leads to genius.  Many think Mozart, as well as Edison and Einstein and Doc Brown, had Asperger’s.  My ten-year-old son has Asperger’s. 

Adam’s eponymous protagonist has a more serious case of the syndrome than my son.  Where my son comes across as a particularly bright, though socially awkward and verbose, kid; Adam (as assayed by English actor Hugh Dancy) experiences Asperger’s as a crippling affliction that limits his ability to work, to make friends, to deal with any kind change to his routine and sense of order.  In Dancy’s performance, I saw a magnified version of my son: his perseverations, his struggles with behaviors like smiling and making eye contact, his inability to glide along when the conversation turns to topics he finds uninteresting.

I’m telling you all this to explain why I cannot evaluate Adam as a work of narrative cinema.  The subject matter’s too close to my heart.  The star’s performance evoked too much of my son.  See, I want my boy to find love, to find his place in the world, and I transferred that desire to Adam’s title character.  I was so completely on this guy’s side from nearly the first frame, so happy to see him develop, so heartbroken when he encountered obstacles, so in the moment, that I can only tell you that Dancy nails Asperger’s.  I’m going to recommend this film to my wife, and I’ll recommend it to you if you know someone with Asperger’s (or if you have it, yourself).  Adam may very well be a pedestrian romantic film about an Asperger’s guy and a “normal” girl trying to make a relationship work.  But if the angle speaks to you, you’ll love it.

I did.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

A Hard Day's Night

I hated this movie.

There are two kinds of people in this world: Beatles people and Stones people.  I'm a Stones guy.  Nevertheless, I tried to approach the film with an open mind, and it rewarded me with one of the best opening sequences I’ve ever seen: the band members outrunning and outwitting a mob of fans on the streets of London, set to the film’s title song.

The opening sequence ends all to quickly, however, and before you know it these guys are talking. Here’s when you know what you’re really in for: bad actors mouthing bad dialogue, with the occasional musical interlude. There’s supposed to be some comedy, but it mostly comes off as mean spirited. There’s supposed to be some semblance of a story, but it’s so simple that I wonder why they even bothered. I think it’s supposed to make us like John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but the quartet come off as spoiled brats who need a good kick in the ass.

Then again, perhaps I’m being unfair. A Hard Day’s Night isn’t a film: it’s a marketing vehicle for the teenaged girl demographic. Since I’m neither teenaged nor a girl, I don’t think there’s any way I could have enjoyed it.

Whatever. All I know is, I’m still not a Beatles guy.