The film that made me wish Spielberg would go back to the suburbs . . .

Rating: Null/10 (26 August 2002)

The suburbs were the setting for three of Steven Spielberg's most popular achievements - "Close Encounters of the Third Kind," "E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial" and "Poltergeist" - and I don't think it's exactly coincidence. As a storyteller, Spielberg drew strength and imagination from his suburban setting, and he was a wry and fair chronicler of it. He knew these people and their environs; he could perceive the inherent limitations, but he also believed in the fundamental decency of most of its denizens, and also recognized what a powerful base of operations the suburban hearthside could be (even one that was, as in "E.T." somewhat less than perfect). How different from every other single movie maker who delves into suburbia. From "American Beauty" to "Edward Scissorhands" , from David Lynch's twisted tales of paranoia to the gothic surrealism of "Donnie Darko", the suburbs are continually a place of danger and trash - a place where the soul is crushed and life is perpetually dark and soulless (underneath of course the placid and reassuring surface). It's time, I think, to send a little letter to Hollywood: "Enough with this stuff already!" Either find a new take on the subject, or at least lighten up and let some joy into the proceedings. The suburbs don't *all* suck, after all.
At first, this film looked like it might be going in that benevolent direction. It did a nice job painting a fairly normal suburban family and environment without pencilling in either too much plasticity (Mary McDonnell's mother veers in that direction, but her portrayal keeps pulling back from matriarchal harpy into a more rounded, human performance) or moodiness. But this idyll breaks down rather quickly, and we're once again into the Suburbs As Hell (teenage angst sub-genre). And you know what? Once you've been down that road a couple dozen times, there's really not too much more to say (or see).
So Richard Kelly, the writer and director, attempts to sustain our interest with a plot that, like "the Sixth Sense", infuses creepiness and notions of horror and/or insanity before resolving all with a "surprise" ending that - supposedly - sheds new light upon all that has gone before (and is meant the make the audience say, "Aw - coooooooool, man!"). As you can no doubt tell, I don't think much of the device, or of the movie, and here's why:
It makes no sense! String it all together, work it out backwards and forwards, and the film still has too many loose ends, too many things that just do not cohere. One could possibly make a plea for relativism, or ambiguity, but even allowing for that the film really doesn't hold together. For example, much is made of the firing of the English teacher played by Drew Barrymore; in the principal's office when it happens, she breaks down and bemoans anyone ever "reaching" the kids. But from what we've seen of her in class, she clearly maligns her students and acts like a supreme bitch, so why should we care. If she was onscreen for more than five minutes it might make sense; instead, it's just bad writing. Yet another of Donnie's teachers is held up as the shrewish, self-righteous type who sees things in utter black and white terms; we're not meant to like her, and we don't - but to what ultimate effect? A motivational speaker in the film is eventually revealed as someone with a dark secret, but that too is passed over and not really dealt with in any but the most cosmetic way. Amidst all this, Donnie Darko seems to be going quietly insane.
All of this might have some sort of point, in a better movie. If I had to guess, that point would be: the school Administration dispenses soul-crushing pablum, like so much mental novocaine. Is this what's eating Donnie throughout the movie? It's hard to say, since the filmmaker decides he doesn't want to deal with any of it head-on, but rather plays around on an arty concept of the world being refracted into all sorts of weird shapes through Donnie's peculiar "condition" (the exact nature of which is not revealed until the end - if there, even!). Problem is, as he plays around with the "freakiness" of what Donnie is going through, he loses sight of how to portray good old fashioned reality (exaggerations and caricatures abound), leaving the audience adrift on a sea of madness on the one hand, and cartoonishness on the other. Not a pleasant dichotomy.

Once the movie finally reveals its hand, a new spin is put on things, of course. But, reflecting upon everything which went before in the wake of the final twist, I could see no reason for the tone the director took, nor could I truly see any kind of resolution. My fear is that the director *thinks* he's made sense of things at the eleventh hour . . . but in point of fact, he's cleared up nothing. It's possible to muse that the film is wanting to be some kind of Generation Y version of "It's A Wonderful Life," but nothing of any import really happens or is revealed, so even that association is bogus.
So many ideas in this movie. So many ideas that were almost good. There isn't a good movie inside this mess, trying to get out, but there could have been. Stylistically, at least, it was very intriguing and well handled - Kelly is a natural director, with an imaginative eye for *shooting* and *displaying* the suburban landscape (almost as good as Spielberg). But the guy clearly needs to hire a writer next time. And if he's trying to make science fiction (which is what this film seems to be leaning toward), a science fiction writer wouldn't hurt.
Which reminds me: hey, Steven, you still available?! Come on back from your 21st century musings - the suburbs could really use you again!