Plastics, my dear boy!

Rating: Null/10 (27 January 2006)

There are a few things about this film that jumped right out at me. To start with, and this seemed to be common to the others in my peer group watching, our ability to watch films such as "The Graduate" has been completely eschewed by the likes of "Wayne's World" and "Old School." Two hilarious films in their own right, but their mocking rip offs of the wedding scene in the Presbyterian Church or the underwater pool shots are so en grained in our heads that the viewing of the originals is tainted. The effect just isn't there for us. The experience isn't completely ruined, but it's far from what watching the film back in the sixties would have been like or from what Mike Nichols was shooting for when he lined up the shots the way he did. The only comparison that I can make is perhaps a really steeped film buff who can pick up on all of the technical influences on screen that were first done in French films or underground unknowns. Even still, these are intentional relationships that the director would have been aware of; where as the chronologically backwards viewing of Hollywood can really alter the way a film gets viewed.
Regardless of images of Mike Myers and Will Ferrell popping in and out of my mind while watching the film, there are visual qualities of the film in its own right that do stand out. The interior colors of the houses, or lack of colors really, is pretty obvious, and adds to the sterile nature of Californian suburbs that is really poignant in the film. Even with the lush greens of the plants in the back yard and that tropical blue pool water, the outside doesn't seem any more real. The plants are too green, the water too blue and the overall cleanliness is outright disturbing. It makes Kevin Spacey in "American Beauty" seem like the Benjamin Braddock who didn't give Mrs. Robinson a ride home from that party, only to regret it twenty years later. Adding to the overall synthetic feel is the one word of advice that Benjamin gets from one of his parents' friends at the party: "Plastics." What an asshole.
The anxiety of Benjamin and his feelings of alienation are supposed to be the driving force of this film, and don't get me wrong, Hoffman is excellent. However, think about the way that this movie can be read by a person who is about to be in old Benny boy's shoes really soon. You've just graduated from a prestigious college and are now out in sunny California, equipped with swimming pool and fast red sports car. You're loaded, but bored. Your parents have a hot friend, who is also loaded and bored. How about a steamy love affair in lavish hotel to pass the time? Even better, she has a daughter. Not so fast hot shot, it's one or the other. Things get messy. You persist, and daughter warms up to you and you break up her approved wedding and ride off into the sunset. I admit I'm being facetious, but come on, I can't say that my heart bleeds for this kid. It just seems like a stretch to grant any sort of radical counterculture status to this character. The film as a whole says a lot about the warrants of the American dream life in the suburbs, the clash between the youth culture and their parents' generation and the grim outlook facing liberal arts in light of the impending hegemony of "plastics." Ben even seems genuine as a character, but he's also the poster child for "It's okay dear, he's just going through a phasehe'll be voting Republican by twenty five."