A true to life tale about a misunderstood man

Rating: 10/10 (3 October 2007)

What an odd fellow Andy Kaufman was! Watching the biopic Man on the Moon is something of an effort within itself. It's a film that seems to want to unravel the mystery that was Andy Kaufman, and yet at the end seems content to leave him an eternal mystery. And maybe that's for the best.
Andy Kaufman wasn't very well known outside the US. To UK audiences, he's best known as the eccentric mechanic Latka from the sitcom Taxi. MOTM charts Kaufman's rise to fame, his offbeat antics outside the series, disagreements with co-workers and executives, all leading up to his eventual death from lung cancer in 1984.
Of all the people who could have portrayed Andy Kaufman, Jim Carrey really was the man most eminently qualified. Not only do they look alike, they share the same birthday, and Carrey's acting style is perfectly suited and in sync with Kaufman's.
To watch Carrey is to experience slowly growing astonishment. He so completely disappears into the man that he is Andy Kaufman. He doesn't just mimic the man. He is the man!
MOTM was a film that Carrey notoriously campaigned to be a part of. He wanted it so badly he simply stopped calling himself Jim Carrey for the entirety of the film's production. On and off set, he was only known as Andy Kaufman.
Although a box office flop at the time, MOTM is a real gem of a film. Not only because it contains one of Jim Carrey's finest performances to date, but I like it's imaginative construction.
Directed by Milos Forman, he starts the film off with a cracker of an opening scene. A Black & White Jim Carrey in front of a black background welcomes you to his movie, speaking in a higher register. He admits he edited out the bad parts himself until there was nothing left. He wants you to go home. And proves his point by rolling the end credits (in order of appearance) to the accompaniment of a cheesily uplifting melody on a tatty record player. The picture goes black. Carrey peers around the frame. And is surprised to see you're still here. Then he speaks in his normal voice, and shows you the real movie.
Its one of the most inventive, wonderful openings you'll ever see. But the scene impresses on more than one level because it gives us a fascinating insight into Andy Kaufman's mind. He was prepared to toy around with an audience's perceptions and expectations. He was a man who asked for a fair bit of patience from an audience. And just when it looks like his act is dying a horrible death, he instantly drops the act, and rewards you for your patience by launching into his real routine. That was the genius of Andy Kaufman.
That one scene encapsulates the driving force behind Kaufman, and the film itself understands that too, helped in no small part by the astonishing performance by Jim Carrey.
Nothing else in the film quite matches that scene's genius, but I really enjoyed MOTM, far more than I thought I was going to. Kaufman's routines were bizarre to say the least. And yet I still found them oddly funny. On the DVD special features, Milos Forman admitted he saw Kaufman doing stand-up. He had no idea what he was watching, but he laughed anyway. Quite often too. And I had similar feelings during MOTM.
Kaufman would often begin speaking in a funny voice, confounding an audience with what appeared to be his sheer lack of talent. And then just as suddenly launch into an uncanny impersonation of Elvis Presley. He was the master of deception.
Jim Carrey's performance is the one people ultimately talk about. And rightfully so. But there's a nice line of supporting characters too. One of the oddest touches to Man on the Moon is the inclusion of Danny DeVito. Now you may think that's an odd thing to say. Because DeVito played Louie in Taxi alongside Kaufman. But instead he plays Kaufman's long suffering manager, George Shapiro. That means he can't appear on the recreations of Taxi along with the other cast members (who all make cameo appearances). But oddly enough it works, and DeVito acts as the perfect sounding board for Kaufman's frustrations.
Special mention should also go to the very underrated Paul Giamatti as Kaufman's friend and co-conspirator Bob Zmuda. He was the one man who seemed to understand Kaufman's style, and occupied the same head-space. They're friendship is touching and intriguing too.
One of the most bizarre aspects to Kaufman was his alter-ego, Tony Clifton, an obnoxious lounge singer. I could never really understand why Kaufman immersed himself in such a thoroughly detestable person, but again Carrey plays this character just as expertly. Its a larger than life bit of acting, but Carrey lets out all the stops and makes Tony Clifton a completely different person. Which is as it should be.
Jim Carrey himself seems a lot like Andy Kaufman in real life. Two outrageous comedians you either learn to love or hate. It may be that key which makes Carrey so perfectly suited to this role.
When Kaufman learnt he was dying of lung cancer, despite the fact he didn't smoke, everyone thought it was another of his put-ons. Even I thought that. The film pulled off several narrative somersaults beforehand that really left my head spinning, so I was expecting the same thing here. Even during his funeral, you're half expecting him to sit up in his coffin and yell "fooled ya".
Andy Kaufman remains as much a mystery in death as he did in life. I don't think the film was trying to get to the heart of the man. If it did, he wouldn't be so fascinating. Its a film that wants to leave you confounded. Just as Andy Kaufman himself did to many an audience.