"... of the Spotless Mind." Yes, I know. I usually do include a movie's full title on first reference, especially in the subject of the post. But this allows me to get the whole post title on one line, so you'll just have to forgive me. Besides, who doesn't know what you're talking about when you say Eternal Sunshine?
So we go from a Dangerous Mind in May to a Spotless Mind in July. Did not even notice the parallel construction of those two titles until just a few minutes ago.
This is the only month in the series in which I am watching two films, which was necessary to fit all of Kaufman's movies (minus the one that inspired it, I'm Thinking of Ending Things) into a one-year bi-monthly structure. I chose these two to lump together because they are easily his films I've seen the most, as they were each my #1 film of their respective release years (2002 and 2004). I can be sure of five viewings of each now, three apiece since I started recording my rewatches back in 2006, and at least one apiece in the years between when they were released and 2006. If we just say it's five viewings for both, that'll make their pairing together this month seem even more predestined.
I wasn't sure how much I'd have to say about Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, thinking that my familiarity with them would rob me of fresh insight. As it turned out, I ended up taking a decent number of notes for each.
The first thing I wanted to point out is how they relate to each other. I noticed both films begin with a neurotic voiceover from the main character, though Kaufman's voiceover as himself is a lot more self-effacing and contains a lot more self-loathing than the one he writes for Jim Carrey's Joel Barish in Eternal Sunshine. Both characters speak as though they are writing a journal, though only Joel actually is. They both talk about their personal tendencies, particularly their poisonous, self-defeating ones. Nicolas Cage's Kaufman concentrates in particular on his encroaching baldness and perceived fatness. Joel probably doesn't because he is neither bald nor fat.
A few scenes later, Joel says "Why do I fall in love with every woman who shows me the least bit of attention?" This could be a question every Kaufman character asks.
Still, in a very real sense, Joel represents progress for the Kaufman stand-in. I couldn't help but notice that both of these films contain a scene where the Kaufman character is being asked inside by the woman he obviously likes when dropping her off after a date. The actual Kaufman in Adaptation turns down the offer by Cara Seymour's Amelia, despite her evident interest, as well as his own obvious interest in her. Moments later in his internal monologue, he says he's going to reverse that choice and go up to the door to kiss her. Instead he starts driving away. Joel initially rejects the offer of Kate Winslet's Clementine as well, but when she makes a second attempt, he relents. That's progress, but he still takes himself home before things have a chance to get really physical, citing the same thing Kaufman cites in Adaptation -- that he has to get up early the next day. But, this play works for Joel in the long run as he gets into a relationship with Clementine that is plenty physical.
Is this a real increase in Kaufman's optimism and self-esteem over a period of two years? It's hard to say. But if we are looking ahead to September's film, Synecdoche New York, it kind of looks like the answer is no. He actually has several romantic dalliances in that movie, including a marriage from before the story even begins, but Caden Cotard feels as repugnant in general to Kaufman as any of his characters. Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves though.
Both of these films also contain at least one character, and sometimes multiple characters, that Kaufman aspires to be, who emit a more effortless sense of cool and a far more easy sense of confidence. In Adaptation there are two such characters: 1) His brother Donald, also played by Cage, who is basically Charlie's exact opposite in every respect except for his appearance; 2) John LaRoche, played by Chris Cooper (in his Oscar-winning performance), who is brazen and rednecky while Kaufman is effete and intellectual and timid, though LaRoche is also extremely intelligent, making him even more of an aspirational figure for Charlie.
That character is a bit harder to find in Eternal Sunshine, but I'd argue it is Mark Ruffalo's Stan. He's a bit of a Kaufman schlub but he's also a real cool dresser and is dating a real catch, Kirsten Dunst's Mary. He's like a Kaufman made good, maybe one step further than Joel. Then there's also a Kaufman gone bad, Elijah Wood's Patrick, who is like a Kaufman who gives in to his latent stalker tendencies.
Although there's no other character to share Kaufman's neuroses in Adaptation, I'd argue there is one in Eternal Sunshine. Interestingly, that's Clementine herself, the original manic pixie dream girl (or one of them anyway), who also confesses to having found herself ugly as a child, and frequently talks about how fucked up she is. I think we'd see this a lot more easily if she were granted the internal monologue that Joel is granted, but only one of these per film is allowed.
Speaking of the objects of Kaufman's interests, I noticed that he's got a particular type that represents sort of an ideal to him -- and it's not Clementine, much as she may intrigue him. Seymour actually seems to be the template for this, if we are again looking ahead to his future films. Physically, Seymour has a similarity of appearance to his love interest in Synecdoche, played by Emily Watson, and also to his love interest in Anomalisa, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh -- probably more like Watson as they are both British. I'd even say there is something similar about all these actresses to Patricia Arquette, who appears as a love interest in Human Nature. (Is Drew Barrymore from Confessions of a Dangerous Mind someone we should include in this group? I think probably that's a bridge too far.)
Some other isolated thoughts from my notes:
- In multiple projects we have seen that several characters in the film represent particular sides of Kaufman's personality, and that may have no more literal depiction than in Adaptation. Not only do we have Nicolas Cage playing both Kaufman and his brother, who have very different personalities, but we hear about this within the text of the film as well. Donald Kaufman's script "The Three" deals with a serial killer, a detective and the killer's next victim, who are all the same person. "Trick photography" is his explanation of how you accomplish the effect -- a sly commentary on the current film, in which trick photography is being used to film two Nicolas Cages in the same scene, who represent different sides of the same character's personality, just like the three characters in "The Three." We of course see this splitting of one character's personality revisited in all of Kaufman's films that come after this.
- In talking about the possible film version of the adaptation Charlie Kaufman is writing in Adaptation -- which includes himself and Donald, just as the movie we're watching does (it's all very self-reflexive) -- Donald says "I think I should play me." This is yet another demonstration of just how different Donald is than Charlie. The "real" Charlie does not play himself, casting Nicolas Cage instead. Though one assumes that if Donald actually existed, he would have cast himself rather than Cage -- and also that Kaufman must have, on some level, considered playing the role, if only he'd had a bit more chutzpah or if only he'd deluded himself a bit about his own abilities as an actor. Which is something Donald would have no problem doing, or actually, does without even realizing he's doing it, since Donald is the consummate under-thinker while Charlie is the consummate over-thinker.
- I noticed the flashback scenes in Adaptation, where we see the early years of the earth as well as certain historical figures, felt more like something out of the Michel Gondry playbook than the Spike Jonze playbook. I'm wondering if Kaufman urged Jonze to film them this way after he worked together with Gondry on Human Nature -- even if he worked with Jonze first on Being John Malkovich.
- Both of these films feature an interest in science -- in some cases weird science -- that we have seen in most of the Kaufman films to date. In Adaptation, it's this interest in orchids that was part of his original mission statement to adapt The Orchid Thief, though also in all these "creatures emerging from the primordial ooze" flashback sequences. In Eternal Sunshine, it's the very process used to erase the unwanted memories.
- I noted, not for the first time, that the music that plays over Joel and Clementine meeting each other on the train to Montauk is very goofy and whimsical. Clearly that is to a purpose, even though the tone that has been introduced in the few minutes before that is decidedly wintry and melancholy. I'm wondering if it is Kaufman's and Gondry's acknowledgement that this sort of meet cute scene has a history on screen, and is very tropy in nature. It kind of remind me of a sitcom, which speaks to some of what Kaufman is looking at in his Confessions of a Dangerous Mind script.
- This isn't related to one of Kaufman's other projects, but I noticed a similarity between Eternal Sunshine and another film I love from this same period: Vanilla Sky. And it has to do with that same "uncontrollable slippage of time" concept that I find amply present in both Sky and in Synecdoche New York. When the sleeping Joel inside his own brain realizes he can't control the loss of his memories and that this is extremely distressing to him, he yells at the sky "I don't want to do this anymore, I want to call it off!" In the tone of voice and in the function within the narrative, it reminds me of Tom Cruise yelling "TECH SUPPORT!" in one of my favorite moments of Vanilla Sky. Both films are dealing with the artificial manipulation of memories to wipe out the memory of something painful that has happened to the main character. No wonder I love both of these movies so much.
- Lastly: Both Eternal Sunshine and I'm Thinking of Ending Things end on a shot in the snow, though the former is much more optimistic in its conclusion than the latter.
One thing from watching these two films that I really did not expect: I enjoyed my revisit of Adaptation much more than my revisit of Eternal Sunshine. Though both are former #1 films for me, my working conventional wisdom was that I liked Eternal Sunshine better, as I ranked it higher both in my best of the 2000s rankings (#5 vs. #11) and currently on Flickchart (#38 vs. #56). However, on this viewing, I felt myself resisting Eternal Sunshine just a little, finding it a bit too twee for its own good in certain spots -- especially surprising since I don't think of Kaufman as this type of person. Adaptation clearly seems like the more mind-blowing achievement on a script level, even as clever as some of Kaufman's notions in Eternal Sunshine are.
I'm starting to think that the things that are great about Eternal Sunshine are more equally attributable to Kaufman and Gondry, whereas Kaufman's involvement is more dominant in Adaptation, and maybe that I prefer Kaufman dominance. (Which is why two of the three films Kaufman himself directed resonated with me so much.) I'm wondering if part of that was confirmed when I watched a little featurette afterward on my Eternal Sunshine DVD, a conversation with Carrey and Gondry where we get to see some of Gondry's process and the things he was dreaming up on the fly.
I suspect Eternal Sunshine may have spoken to me more than Adaptation initially, precisely because of its melancholy elements -- when I first saw the movie, I was recovering from a breakup and starting to recognize that we probably were not going to get back together. As I've grown older and have been in a happy marriage for 13 years, I'm probably a little less affected by the poignancy of a lost relationship and maybe in a better position to appreciate the pure cleverness of Adaptation.
Okay, in September it's time for what could possibly overtake both of these as my favorite Kaufman: Synecdoche New York. It'll be my third viewing, so it hasn't yet had the repeat exposure to really challenge the other two. I could easily see that happening this time around though.
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