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July 3, 2006
Click
In "Ideology, Genre, Auteur," Robin Wood identifies one of the most prominent aspects of "American capitalist ideology" as it is realized in Hollywood cinema, which he calls the "Rosebud Syndrome." According to Wood, films such as Citizen Kane suggest via narrative that "Money isn't everything; money corrupts; the poor are happier. A very convenient assumption for capitalist ideology: the more oppressed you are, the happier you are." Wood describes the Rosebud Syndrome and other aspects of American Capitalist Ideology as they are pushed to their absolute limit in Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life, with Jimmy Stewart rescued from despair only through the timely arrival of his guardian angel, Clarence. The recent Adam Sandler vehicle, Click (IMDB), directed by Frank Coraci and written by Bruce Almighty screenwriters Steve Koren and Mark O'Keefe, is the Rosebud Syndrome writ large. And read aloud by James Earl Jones. In Dolby. But that's probably relatively obvious, even from the trailers for Click, which most readers will know features Sandler as Michael Newman (New-Man), a workaholic architect who manages to gain control of his life with a universal remote control that allows him to skip fast-forward, or pause his universe. But the magical remote comes with a high price: like a TiVo, as the remote control "learns" Michael's preferences, it begins to take control, fast forwarding through significant moments in Michael's life, with the remote interpreting Michael's ambitions at work as a preference for his career over his family.
Of course, if this rehashing of the classic opposition between work and family was all that Click had to offer, it wouldn't be an interesting or even terribly entertaining film, but I believe that Click is somewhat unexpectedly interesting and generally entertaining, if only because it depicts the further maturation of Sandler's slightly angry goofball screen persona. In particular, Click tapped into my interest in time-travel films, notably through its use of TiVo as a kind of time travel, allowing Michael to revisit past chapters of his life or to skip ahead through the stressful and boring moments of his life (and I'll be the first to admit that fast-forwarding through traffic would be awfully tempting). By turning Michael's life into something like a film, Click is able to unpack the logic of our media-saturated lives in surprisingly interesting ways. While being introduced to the remote by a mysterious Bed, Bath, and Beyond employee, Morty (Christopher Walken in full mad scientist gear), Michael learns that his life has a commentary track (provided by James Earl Jones, of course), and in a scene that recalled Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jonze's Being John Malkovich, Michael is even given the opportunity to experience both his conception and his birth. Even the casting, especially of Michael's parents (Henry Winkler and Julie Kavner) and boss (David Hasselhoff), seems to suggest that Michael's life is deeply televisual.
At the same time, because of its adherence to this opposition between work and family Click also comes across as a film with a remarkably narrow imagination. Because the film really only offers two choices between the domestic and the workplace, it presents a relatively limited range of choices for Michael's life. If Michael truly has a universal remote, shouldn't he be able to change channels? It doesn't imagine other career paths that Michael might have followed, other than architecture, and it doesn't really address whether Michael's wife, Donna (Kate Beckinsale, whose major contribution to the film seemed to be wearing tight tanktops), ever had any career ambitions of her own. Even within the logic of Michael's world, the implication that Michael will only be successful and wealthy once he makes partner seems somewhat dubious, especially when he worries that the purchase of two bicycles will prove to be too expensive if he doesn't make partner. The film was also overwhelming laden with product plcements. Perhaps I've been spending too much time in the art house, but I've rarely encountered such extreme use of product placements, especially for Bed, Bath, and Beyond, where Michael first receives the remote (though to be fair, the joke on the "beyond" in the store's name was a nice touch).
I'll admit that I'm somewhat ambivalent about Click. Like Bruce Almighty, the film has some remarkably reigious overtones, with Sandler turning to the skies at one point for divine guidance. And the film's failure to imagine anything beyond the conflict between home and office left a little to be desired. But as a commentary on TiVo and time, Click is surprisingly compelling.
Update: While you're in the neighborhood, check out Caryn James' review, which depicts the underlying cyncism of a film such as Click. She explains that while the film's message is that Sandler's Micheal should slow down, but that "Nothing could be more bogus; as if anyone in Hollywood really wants to slow down. The true message -- wouldn't it be great to have that remote? -- shines through anyway. And it's not just the filmmakers who are in on the sham." Thanks to GreenCine for the link.
Posted by chuck at July 3, 2006 1:44 PM
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Comments
I haven't watched Click, but, when I first saw the TV spots, I thought, "Is this a Hollywoodification of Nicholson Baker's The Fermata?" I haven't seen the novel mentioned in any discussion of the movie, so I must be way off.
Again, I haven't seen the movie, but there seems to be an issue of privileging consumption over actually living. By offering the voice-over commentary, life for Sandler's character becomes a text to consume (and punctuated by shopping) rather than something felt and experienced.It seems a little creepy.
Posted by: McChris at July 3, 2006 2:51 PM
I think you're right. If I wasn't in a rush when I wrote the review (I'm at risk of getting a parking ticket as I write), I would have mentioned a neighborhood boy who represents one of Michael's "rivals." The boy constantly brags about his parents' superior ability to buy stuff and Michel even runs over the boy's pet "robo-dog" (seen as an artificial, but expensive, substitute to Michael's real dog).
I *think* the point is suposed to be that Michael should learn not to experience life as a text to consume, but the pleasure of consumption sometimes overwrites that "moral." And, yes, the film is a little "creepy" in this regard, but creepy can be interesting. I haven't heard any comparisons with the Baker novel which I haven't read but plan to buy (consume?) on my way home from the coffee house.
Posted by: Chuck at July 3, 2006 3:04 PM
So Bed Bath & Beyond is a real shop? I was wondering what possible benefit there could be to whoever makes Twinkies to have them play the role they do in this movie.
Kate Beckinsale didn't just stand about wearing tank tops - she also wore very short shorts.
Posted by: Laura at July 3, 2006 7:23 PM
Yep, BB&B is a real shop. In fact, I think there's one right around the corner from this Barnes & Noble where I'm using the wifi. I think Hostess gets some benefit from the product placement. For about twenty minutes I found myself craving one of their incredibly unhealthy snack cakes.
I was going to mention Beckinsale's short shorts but didn't want to sound like I was paying too much attention to her outfits.
Posted by: Chuck at July 4, 2006 4:45 PM
BTW, McChris, I'm reading The Fermata right now and really enjoying it. Thanks for the (accidental?) book recommendation.
Posted by: Chuck at July 4, 2006 6:11 PM
Yeah, I guess I thought The Fermata would be a book you would know. I guess it doesn't deal with time travel writ large, but there are definitely issues of temporality going on. I'm glad you're enjoying. I read it as a teen, so it's hard for me to separate it's prurient appeal from its other merits. It's definitely creepy in a good way.
I was thinking about what I was trying to say about the creepiness of Click, and I part of my problem was that I was using a quasi-Birmingham School vocuabulary (as you pointed out) for what was more of a (vulgar) Situationist objection. By adding a commentary track, the movie both elevates and relegates his life to a spectacle, rather than privileging the experience of daily life.
Situationist thought often jibes with what I'm thinking about media, but (at least in the context of my department) seems to be a intellectual dead end. I wonder if it's failure to provide a critical vocabulary — unlike the Birmingham School folks — would account for its lack of prominence. Or maybe it's just too French.
Posted by: McChris at July 5, 2006 10:24 PM
The Fermata is a fun read. It's one of those novels I somehow missed. I've picked up Vox once or twice but have never read anything by him. It's not quite time travel, but one of the most impoartnt films for my book project is Dark City, which has a similar, if less prurient, treatment of time stoppage.
For me, the problem with the Situationist approach is what you describe: it leaves us at a critical or intellectual dead end of sorts. You're probably giving me (or the film) a little too much credit for the (very vulgar) Situationist reading.
I am interested in the very distinct pleasure that Michael gets from using the universal remote and I have to admit that when the possibility of fast forwarding through traffic crossed my mind this afternoon, it seemed awfully tempting. While Michael ultimately rejects the power offered by the remote, the film's most "enjoyable" scenes are the ones in which he gets back at the various bullies in his life (his boss, the neighbor boy who taunts him and his son). It's a much weirder film than it appears, but I'm not sure I have a read on why I think that.
I don't think anything in theory departments can be "too French!"
Posted by: Chuck at July 5, 2006 10:46 PM