Thursday, June 11, 2015

The Anniversary Party.


Front cover.
 
I've always been fascinated by the line between the autobiographical and those works that just feel that way. Recollection and truth. Or recollection versus truth. It's my own favorite area to write in; the illuminated gray blue space of the last of night fading into a sunrise. For me, the middle, where it all overlaps, is where the good stuff is.

I sought out The Anniversary Party in 2002 or 2003, after reading Alan Cumming's novel, Tommy's Tale. I heard Cumming's voice in my head as I read, detailing the silly and sordid life of "it's really not autobiographical, no really, it's not" Tommy. Cumming wrote, directed, and starred in The Anniversary Party with Jennifer Jason Leigh. Close friends in real life, they casted the film with their real friends and family, shooting it on digital in less than a month. Each time I watched it, I searched for the truths within the fiction, the parts that might be real that were woven into the fiction. I assured myself there was plenty real woven into the fiction beyond the obvious, like Phoebe Cates and Kevin Kline playing a married couple.

Cumming and Leigh play Joe and Sally, a couple throwing themselves an anniversary party after a tumultuous year fraught with neighborly spats, more successful friends, and a brief separation. She's an actress and he's a writer, and both are attempting to age gracefully as they internally dissolve from the stress of living and working in Hollywood. As the hours pass, the party atmosphere starts to fade as the cracks in their relationship, and the relationships of their guests, are exposed.


Friends forever.

I knew eventually, one of these movies wasn't going to be how I remembered it.

Seeing it in my early twenties, I looked at Sally and Joe as models of the adulthood I wanted to live. I wanted to write, to act, to direct - to have artistic creative success, and not just by myself. I wanted a partner who had that kind of creative drive, too. I wanted friends who I could collaborate with and celebrate those successes alongside. I wanted parties and nice view of the ocean and to have a body strong enough to pull off tricky yoga sequences. 

Watching The Anniversary Party ten years and a lifetime of reality later, it was impossible for me not to feel like Joe and Sally are mostly selfish, indulgent people with hollow connections to the ones they think they're closest to. Are you even allowed to have an anniversary party when you've been separated? Why would anyone plan a party segment that involves each guest taking a turn performing some kind of song or skit in honor of you? That sounds like one of my worst nightmares. Who brings their children to such a party and makes them sing about a marital separation? Why are these adults acting like the gift of some Ecstasy is the be-all, end-all? They can't find E on their own?

I hate that honesty only comes out after everyone swallows funtime rave drugs. It feels cheap, and now it feels dated too. Characters getting altered in order to spill their soul is almost as revolting to me as it is in real life.

Sally and Joe and their friends are whiny and short-sighted, and they all have more money than problems. Maybe Leigh and Cumming were ham-fistedly trying to show that money doesn't heal emotional wounds, but...we all know that already, and The Anniversary Party doesn't bring any new dishes to the potluck. I think the movie might have clicked for me when I was younger because I hadn't experienced the depth of emotions that I have now. (I originally wrote "emotional carnage," but I don't want to give the impression that I think of myself as some weathered and weary sage, travelling along the dusty road of heartbreak, loss, and lack of fulfillment.) Even though I was theoretically an adult at 20ish, I was still (partially) sweet and (kind of) innocent; not inexperienced, but untarnished by a lot of the pain and strife that life can serve up. I was in love, family was great, friends were the best, the words poured out of me every day. That's no longer the case :D and so I have a hard time accepting characters who fear speaking up about their feelings. It's difficult to accept as a conflict in a film, especially when there aren't real risks and stakes in speaking your mind. High school jock likes the less popular girl? Just tell her. Executive boss lady has feelings for her male assistant? Just tell him. Don't torture me with the hemming and hawing of should I/shouldn't I. (...unless you're Richie and Margot Tenenbaum.)

The look and feel of Anniversary Party were immediately different when I first saw it - it may have been the first shot-on-digital film I ever was aware I was watching. Now, I can say the camera works as found footage before found footage was a thing: roaming around the house and yard, weaving through party guests, lingering at the edge of groups, finding spare bedrooms and quiet spaces where people pair off to talk to each other in hushed tones. You get a visual story that's woven loosely around the party guests like a summer scarf on a fledgling actor. I still like the intimacy of the direction, even though most of the movie doesn't work for me anymore.

Most, because of that camera work. Most, because of the cast, who argue and cry and trip and kiss with ease, across the board. Cumming and Leigh are the true stars, and despite not liking their characters, I like watching both of them work with personalities they've developed together and obviously feel comfortable in. Their intimacy is natural, sweet, and sexy. I love seeing John C. Reilly acting in a semi-serious role, before he abandoned drama to model himself after Will Ferrell. Gwyneth Paltrow plays what could easily pass for a dimmer version of herself. Kevin Kline is funny and arrogant and kind of how you'd hope he'd be, if you invited him to a party at your house. Jennifer Beals is threateningly attractive, and both Denis O'Hare and John Benjamin Hickey do their thing with similarly angry characters. Parker Posey is there too, though she isn't given very much to do.  

The voyeur in me still enjoys the familiarity captured in The Anniversary Party, but the rest of me could barely stand to be around these people for the length of a movie.
Back cover.