Synecdoche, New York: A Modern Hamlet (Highfalutin Warbling)

...and speaking of the ouroboros, I saw Synecdoche, New York, a new movie written and directed by Charlie Kaufman. It's the story of a theater director, Caden Cotard, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, who dedicates his life to producing one monumental story that he hopes will make his existence worth while: the story of his life.

(I've attempted to avoid any spoilers, but read on at your own risk.)

With the usual dose of Kaufmanesque irony and circularity, Caden's friends and family become characters in the play, and the actors who play those characters become his friends and family, and so on and so on until a comic pitch is achieved. Almost immediately, managing the production of his play becomes as impossible as the management his own life with characters, relationships, and sets becoming a confused mess that sprawls out into the streets of New York. Unlike some of Kaufman's other movies, however, the plot itself is relatively easy to follow. (In fact, describing the storyline--at least my summary--is probably more confusing than the plot itself.) Is it puzzling? Yes. Utterly ridiculous at moments? Sure. Baffling? Absolutely. At times I wondered, "Is this going to end up being a 2-hour joke on the audience?" And you could certainly make the argument that it is. But what makes Synecdoche, New York, so compelling and, I would argue, touching, despite sporadic outright lunacy, is the way in which it holds the mirror up to nature and to life.

One of the reasons Hamlet has always been a darling of art and literature is Shakespeare's use of metatheatricality--the play within a play device. Hamlet constantly feigns whatever emotion or disposition he thinks will allow him to extract information from the other characters and lead him to the murderer of his father. Madness, sincerity, love, cruelty--Hamlet is a master player. Like Hamlet, Caden becomes so consumed by the need to "play" and "direct" that the line between reality and the production becomes obscured. Shakespeare often revisited the theme of appearance versus reality and the metaphor of life as a play, most famously in the words of Jacques in As You Like It:

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages."
Act 2, scene 7, 139-143

Not only does Caden "play many parts"--father, son, husband, player, director--but he witnesses and reenacts every major and minor tragedy in his life. In doing so, he allows history to repeat itself over and over again and never truly moves on. And, although Kaufman tempers each tragedy with a half-cocked wink at the audience, as layer upon layer and stage upon stage is built, Caden is never able to get it quite right. He fixates on every minor detail so much so that he is unable to enjoy or appreciate any small pleasure in his life at the present.

Throughout the movie, Kaufman peppers in moments that can only be described as touchstones of the audience's faith. Challenges almost. "If you're willing to laugh at this, maybe I can take it a bit further." But the world Kaufman, and ultimately Caden, creates is one that requires at least a passive disbelief. "Of course none of this could ever happen, but wouldn't it be horrible/wonderful if it did?" I suppose what Kaufman may be trying to say is that there are certain aspects of life that don't make sense, that we don't have control over, but we inevitably have to accept. And maybe finding a way to appreciate the chaos of life is what keeps the sane sane, and the rest teetering on a razor's edge.

The fact that every person in Caden's life becomes a character in the play underscores that fact that we often wish we could play the directors of our pasts. If only I would have done this instead, if only I'd said this, if only. The truth of the matter is that we have to make the best decision we know how at the time and only in a perfect world could we go back and replay each scene. But in doing so, would we ever really move forward? For Caden, the answer is no. As time becomes Caden's enemy, he loses control of his own actions and becomes an observer of his own life, rather than the director.

I think Synecdoche, New York, can be interpreted two very different ways. One way, the cynical viewpoint in which the play and stage are nothing more than black-barred cages, echoes the thoughts of Shakespeare's Macbeth:

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."
Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5, 19-28

But I prefer to think that Kaufman means for Synecdoche, New York, to serve as a cautionary tale against that mindset. That every player has his mark and his lines and his worth to the story as a whole and that the oddities of the play, the happy and not-so-happy accidents, are what keep it interesting. I think Kaufman wants us to realize that, as in the movie, life's tribulations are often mollified by simple pleasures. Like Hamlet, Caden's play ultimately brings his demise, but not before he realizes the time he spent looking back was wasted and could have been better dedicated to the wonderful, the sad, the funny, the horrible, the touching, of the present.

Ouroboros: A Blog?

Who am I-Andy Rooney? Reading back over my first post, I thought, “What crotchety old bastard wrote that?” I sound like someone who refused to buy a VCR in the ‘80s because he didn’t want to learn how to work the thing. Oh well. As a wise man once said, “20/20 is good eyesight.”

This brings me to my second minor diatribe on blogs. Like most anything I’ve ever written, having time to gain distance and depth offers the opportunity to critique my own, and very rarely am I not in some way embarrassed about what I wrote. Actually being proud is even rarer. This applies to term papers, short stories, resumes, grocery lists-you name it. And now blog entries. About the only time I look back at something I wrote and think, “Not too shabby,” is when I read some little scribble or sketch that I wrote that 99% of the people in the world would read and say, “I don’t get it.” One such story is the tale of Tuck, which I will post now to demonstrate my point:

Tuck the Wiley Belt Buckle

Tuck was a sad but wily belt buckle and he had many problems that he could not face. He would hide himself on a shelf and never look in the mirror. He used to have friends that would play with him and love him all day long. But that was then and this is not then. Tuck got so mad one day that he decided not to buckle at all.

Gary, his owner, asked him, “Tuck, why will you not buckle today?”

And to this Tuck replied, “Gary, I used to love to buckle all day, everyday for you, but now I feel that you do not need me to buckle.”

“Oh, hogwash, Tuck. You know I need you to buckle so that my pants will not fall down.”

Tuck looked deep into Gary’s eyes and saw that what he said was more than words; he spoke passion with a capital “P” for his favorite belt buckle.

Tuck then cried out, “Oh, Gary. I can’t believe that I would not buckle for you,” and immediately buckled.

Gary looked down with a grin, patted his belt and said, “That’s the Tuck I know and love. Now let’s go make this a world worth fighting for. Okay?”

“Okay,” answered Tuck. And the two strolled off into the distance.

THE END

I have several of these that I plan on posting on from time to time, so I caution any potential reader: be prepared to possibly develop a migraine, become angry or confused, and/or any combination of the aforementioned.

I realize that my first two posts have mainly been critiques of blogs themselves, so I’m considering renaming my blog something along the lines of “Blog: The Blog Blog,” or maybe “Ouroboros-A Blog.” I’ll keep you posted. (Get it? POSTED? Blog humor! OWW!) How long before I cringe when I read this post? Probably not long.

Hi, Hello. Yes. No, thank you. And you are? Congratulations!! I'm sorry. Yes, thank you.

Okeedoke. Well, inaugural blog post commence:

I've generally thought that blogs and blogging were a wee bit narcissistic and ego-centric, but this is a modern era, so I figured, "What the hell." I don't pretend to think that anybody's going to read this, much less care about what I write, but I guess it might be a good way to write on a consistent basis.

I suppose the main problem I've had with starting a blog is the same problem I've had with status updates on social networking sites like Facebook and MySpace. Are some people so vain that they think people care what the hell they're doing at 6 PM on a Tuesday? "Tim Sardepartment is eating a can of peaches." "Burt Dangley is picking the lint between his toes." "Sally Lally is buying a new pair of rockin' jeans." For the most part, I don't even care what my close friends are doing throughout the day, not to mention somebody I met once three years ago. And I just assume they don't care what I'm doing either. Don't get me wrong, I've posted status updates before, but within an hour or so of posting them I usually think, "Who the eff cares?" and I delete it.

Now, I think there are certain times and circumstances when blogs, status updates, etc. are useful social tools. For instance, I have friends in other parts of the country and abroad who I like to keep in touch with on some minimal level, so being able to visit their blog from time to time is a great way to do so. And if you want to say, "Thanks for the birthday wishes, everyone! or "I just got engaged!" on your status update, I say go for it. But, "Bonson Ronson is waiting at the airport"? Really? Fascinating! What a unique human experience! Are there other people at the airport? If so, I wish I could see their faces!

I don't claim that these ideas are original or useful in any way. And I'll be the first to admit that I'm as full of BS as the next schmuck on the street. But I suppose that, on the rare occasion that I might have something worthwhile to say, this might be a good forum to do so.

"Graham Shafer is going to check the mail now." (Ever done it before? Then you know exactly how I feel!)