The Universe According to Charlie Kaufman

The directorial bent of Charlie Kaufman is just another one of his attributes that will make easier the transition from his solo career as writer. A lot of writers can work with something on paper. Kaufman has a higher sense of the structure and flow of a movie and of the dialog that really needs to be spoken to be heard that makes him adept at the art of film making. You can view the latest trailer his new film, Synecdoche, New York, in which he serves as writer and director, here. IMDB sums it up: "A theater director struggles with his work and the women in his life as he attempts to create a life-size replica of New York inside a warehouse as part of his new play."

I always assumed that the Kaufman protagonist was in some measure different reflections of himself, the awkward fellow ranging from the loquacious (Craig Schwartz in Being John Malkovitch) to the extremely reticent (Joel Barish in Eternal Sunshine). Caden Cotard, played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, is in the same gallery. An intelligent, sensitive man, his autonomic functions are slowly shutting down. It seems to be Eternal Sunshine with a more seamless blend. Instead of a clear divide between conscious and unconscious, Synecdoche moves between reality and unreality as Caden deteriorates.

In fact, many of his works bend reality in different ways. My favorite script of his, Dangerous Mind, is based entirely on a confessional and the reality as one man sees it regardless of truth. The declination of Chuck Barris is such that he begins to invent his own violent reality toward the end of the film, which perhaps is one reason why the story is so endearing. Kaufman knows exactly the length and content of each scene that is necessary for communication. One of my favorite parts of the movie is the inversion of Chuck Barris in the movie theater: first, he is the only one not kissing his date, then, he is the only one kissing. And the only scene of his childhood, the one that shaped his life, is given appropriate measure of about thirty seconds before it moves on.

Kaufman dialog has always relied on a lot of repitition, folding back on itself, and truth about individual reality spoken through the common person. It has a real rhythm like most good dialog does.

I look toward Kaufman the director with real hope for his work. He is at the same time funny, evocative, and peculiar, and he is never afraid to twist the grammar of a film toward his advantage.