a Cloud Maker

Synecdoche, New York - 2008

By Charlie Kaufman


For many film critics, the idea of a
renowned screen play writer
turning his own text into a movie,
is a bit of a bittersweet.
[But is well known that psychologists
and aspires love such enterprises.]

Let us begin:

Kauffman has indeed raised his share of
religious followers throughout the
years, due to his intellectual and
well tied chronicles, that unavoidably
did more than just 'compound' the pictures
by stealing the holophotes
for themselves.

Kauffman´s scripts are dense,
personal and always
a bit magical in its apperant simplicity.
But as Hitchcock is quoted (or paraphrased) to say,
“Great screen plays don´t
turn out to be great pictures.”

And that ends up being being the
'bitter' factor of this work, as we
sail on the universe Kauffman
created this time:
the "Synecdoche, New York´s'' one.

The Film depicts our innermost cravings,
and dreams in a very unique displaying.
the choice of an atemporal
narrative and the beautifully done
dialogue with age. But poetically speaking
the main discussion of Synecdoche, New York
the well depicted internal struggle
every human being nourishes, the
constant sensation that
we are at the verge of our own
personal climax.

That´s how good it gets, up until a feature
begins to bother...
the 'issue' with Synecdoche, New York
isn´t based on Kaukman´s lack of
competence, but perhaps on
the opposite of it,
the 'thing' keeping the film
from being great is precisely
his geniality, or better put:
his genius.


Kaufman´s choice of approaching
Synecdoche, New York as a
spectrum of 'possibilities'
ended up revealing it to exist not to
increase the narrative,
but to hide itself from us.

We were to be only passengers this time,
and he (Kaufman) the
ONLY story teller.

The film as a process is a delight,
the cast was great, really
transparent in their performance.
It´s almost impossible to mention them as
individuals and this is perhaps the
greatest feature of this work,
the real immersion of the cast in their
respectinve characters; and off course
the whole creating of just the right atmosphere
by scenographers and the preparation crew.

Its passionate, and intense in all its minutes,
but even when all of it´s hanging at its favor
Synecdoche, New York disappoints,
and that because we´ve built
too much expectations upon it.

But what precisely turns our 'hopes' off?
Well, when one attempts to decode this picture
into a chronological chain of events,
he[she] finds it to be impossible,
and that might be just what Kaufman had
proposed: to narrate a story
not as it happens but
as it´s perceived by it´s main
character, that not accidentally
is an artist. [Do you remember 'Adaptation'?]
He does it by displaying how
the characters have felt instead of
what they have done, turning
conjectures/thoughts/dreams
into scenes. Quite cleverly...


The film was only 'held up' from
being universal and analogical because
it had its purest element (free-expression)
limited by its narrative.
When all the 'watchers' have already
met its climax, Kaufman points out
that the climax is to be found
on the magical closening of
his script, on the words of
the narrator and not on
the experiencing of the
film as a whole.


Unfortunately in such occasions art is
no longer a mutual dialogue
of expressions, but
a pamphleting of ideas.

Under this light, Synecdoche, New York,
is an arm wrestle between
it´s author and the 'never to
be restrained' art peace,
who tries despite what the script
may order, to be an
entity of its own.

Films are like children, no matter
how much parents may force them to be
what they´ve idealized, they´re always
a being of their own, with their
own ideas and sayings.

Sometimes Grounding,
ain´t an option.


PS.: If you´d like to find out precisely what Kaufman
wanted to say, he´s made himself clear in the lines
of the also self written sound track.