A meta approach to a film or TV show or any piece of media is not uncommon, but it is unique for it to be embraced as heartily as it is by Adaptation, a 2002 Spike Jonze directed feature that goes absolutely all in when it comes to utilizing this style of storytelling. How exactly does the movie engage in a meta narrative you ask? Why, by focusing on an exaggerated version of the films screenwriter, Charlie Kaufman (Nicolas Cage).
Charlie is a neurotic, paranoid writer who sweats under any given circumstances, has trouble talking to women, can't seem to finish his screenplay, is fat, is balding....these kind of thoughts run rampant through his head every day. It's a tricky assignment to make a character like this flourish in cinematic form instead of coming off as an overt attempt to gain audience sympathy. Smartly though, Kaufman's script doesn't make this character someone sympathetic per se; he's just a person, with flaws, occasional virtues, but mainly shortcomings.
Charlies relentlessly worrisome personality is a stark contrast to his more confident and assured twin brother, Donald, also played by Cage. Depicting twins in the world of film is nothing new (Armie Hammer in The Social Network anyone?), but it's still impressive how well Cage pulls off both roles, creating individual personalities for both roles that bounce off each other in realistic brotherly manner. It's also interesting to see how scenes with the two characters are composed; while there's occasionally a shot where obvious trickery has been used to only depict one of the two brothers (particularly a moment where Donald is standing next Charlie, whose sitting down, but the audience can only see Donald from the neck down), but mostly, the film seamlessly depicts both characters inhabiting the same environment, which helps cement their individual identities.
On the opposite side of the tracks, if you will, I actually spent most of the movie feeling like Susan Orlean (Meryl Streep), the author of the book, The Orchid Thief, that Charlie is adapting into a screenplay, was an underdeveloped entity within the movie. She seemed to be almost just a blank slate of a personality with the sole purpose of being a tour guide through the life of flower obsessed Florida resident John Laroche (Chris Cooper). But soon towards the end of this story, some nuance is brought into Susan's life, as her and John become are involved in a plot turn that's most compelling.
That plot point leads to things taking a striking tonal shift for the movie, with things going darker and more suspenseful. I won't give away specifics, but this stuff's actually great to watch. There's an incredible sense of tension heightened by these darker sequences taking place in the confined environment of a swamp. This dramatic turn actually leads to my favorite scene of the movie, where Charlie and Donald crouch behind a log, terrified, and start to have a small conversation about a girl Donald liked in High School.
It's in this moment that Donald drops a piece of dialogue that should be so corny, it shouldn't work. The line is "You are what you love, not what loves you" and y'know what? In the context of this scene, and with Nicolas Cages tender delivery of the words....it works. Astonishingly well actually. There's a lot of truth in this statement, especially for Charlie, a character who needs to be told that sort of important wisdom, It's an oasis of clarity for a character who can't seem to find or keep solace.
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