Delivers a beautiful, lasting message

Rating: 7/10 (18 August 2016)

When I first watched American Beauty, I was in awe. To many, this feeling was mutual. I, like most viewers, felt as if I had just witnessed the ultimate achievement in cinema—a film that actually changed my life. I thought it was the deepest, most profound film ever. I believed the message. I was ready to appreciate all the beauty in the world.
Fast forward a few years, my view changed. American Beauty is creepy and pretentious and stomach churningly awkward and so over the top at times that it elicits eye rolls.
I don't mean to rip the movie completely. Upon second viewing, I still enjoyed it immensely. It's aware and insightful, even if it's not quite as profound as everyone believed 15 years ago.
In any case, American Beauty remains an Oscar worthy movie, in part, because of the flawless acting of Annette Bening and Kevin Spacey, who play two iconic roles even though they're essentially playing clichés, which is a super under-appreciated accomplishment.
Seriously, think about it. They play a nuclear suburban couple in an ordinary neighborhood with an ordinary teenage daughter (despite what Ricky thinks about her) and ordinary family issues. Even the greatest sources of conflict in the movie (her affair and his mid-life crisis) are exceedingly ordinary. And still they manage to give extraordinary and lasting performances. Impressive work.
All that ordinary really serves as the point of the film. Ricky, the kid who films stuff, sees things that most people consider ordinary and frames them in his mind as "beautiful." To an extent, he has a wonderful, enlightened perspective. Except for when he crosses the threshold into weird.
Case and point: "Ricky, why are you filming that dead bird?"
"Because it's beautiful."
That's an iffy assertion at best, Ricky. I'm all about finding beauty in everyday places, but I find many things a heckuva lot more beautiful than a dead bird. For one, a living bird.
American Beauty has a worthwhile message; we've established that. But the message means little if not delivered properly. Thankfully it is.
In fact the message delivery is the strength of the film. Its effectiveness lies in its ability to present this family living the American dream, a ubiquitous concept, while exploring it with a deep, multi-perspective approach.
It deconstructs the whole concept of the American dream. We see the nuclear family—husband, wife and daughter. They live in a nice house in a beautiful neighborhood. The parents each work good jobs. The daughter attends a nice school. They should all be perfectly happy. Yet
As we peel back the layers, we see the flaws. The daughter hates her parents and struggles to fit in at high school. Mom tries and fails to connect with her daughter while she also tries and fails at work. Dad seems to have lost interest in all things aside from lusting after his daughter's teenage friend.
They are miserable.
This all forces us to ask: this is the American dream? What's so great about this? As the story ultimately winds to its conclusion, it arrives at the restoration of hope in the form of a super weird and creepy character experiencing an epiphany. *NOTE* I'm talking about Lester (Kevin Spacey), not Ricky, even though he is also creepy and weird. I know I hit on this already, but it demands a second mention. Quite frankly Ricky is more than just strange. He's kind of a pompous tool who is largely responsible for taking the movie from profound to "come on dude, it's just a plastic bag" levels of pretentiousness. It almost makes me glad President Snow killed him at the end of The Hunger Games 13 years later.
How perfect is that role for him? When you picture Ricky 13 years later, can't you totally imagine him designing the layout of a game in which kids fight to the death? It makes perfect sense to me. He would probably think The Hunger Games are beautiful. *END OF NOTE* Anyway, back to Lester's epiphany.
Lester turned his life around, in large part, due to his pursuit of a fantasy. But when he had a chance to live that fantasy, he turned it down. That was his epiphany. His real one, not the one he thought he had after smoking weed with Ricky.
No, that night with Angela was the moment of his true breakthrough. He realizes that lusting after his daughter's friend is icky. More than that, he started to see things for what they really were. His fantasy girl was really just an innocent, vulnerable teenager. His daughter was really a special young lady he raised. His wife was really the woman he fell in love with.
Being with Angela was not what he really wanted. He had what he wanted all along. Even with his current problems, he chose his reality over his fantasy. He had a wife, a daughter, a great life. Somewhere along the way he just forgot.
I could probably ramble for another few thousand words about this movie, I better wrap things up.
American Beauty sends a worthy message about appreciating the little things in life, the ones most of us take for granted. Experiencing the movie is like swimming through gorgeous ocean water in the Caribbean. It's wonderful, you just have to navigate through the seaweed of affairs and ignore the gross oil spill doubling as a 40 year old guy fantasizing about banging a high school cheerleader.
If you can do that, you will take away something useful from this movie. And you'll have a fun time while you do it.