**Warning! This is a long ass wall of text. I won't be doing another Registry Review for a little bit, so I'm tiding you all over with this (even though only, like, 3 people actually read this). I wrote this essay about one of my favorite (if not just my flat out favorite) filmmakers for a cinema class. I've added subheads for easier reading.**
*******************ALSO SO MANY SPOILERS******************
In his review of Palindromes, Roger Ebert says of Todd Solondz, “You walk out of one of his films feeling like you've
just failed a class in ethics, and wondering if in this baffling world anyone
ever passes”. Viewers wanting to “pass”
a Todd Solondz film will have a difficult time doing so, as he does not take on
the opinionated, parental role of a filmmaker who has answers. In the
broader context of the rest of his work, Ebert’s sentiment is representative of
normal versus abnormal, or “us versus them”. Just like ethics, which is
essentially the study of right and wrong, society’s perspective of normal and
abnormal is often a false dichotomy until someone forces critical thought into
the equation. A man who cannot grow up, as Abe cannot in Dark Horse, is mocked. A teacher coercing a student into acting out
violent and racially charged sex fantasies in Storytelling is observed like a disturbing and fascinating anomaly.
A pedophile, like Bill Maplewood, who can and will victimize children in Happiness, is seen as sub-human. How can
he not be? To most of the world, there are the good and happy people, and then
there is Bill Maplewood, Mr. Scott, or Dawn Wiener. To Solondz, this does not
add up. The common trap that viewers (and sometimes critics) fall into is to
think that Solondz views these characters, and the strange and sometimes
disturbing situations they must navigate through, as novelties-- that he aims
to probe the “dark underbelly” of humanity with scathing satire. Another
misconception is that he enjoys skewering the flaws of society, the cultural
“remainders”, and the outcasts. Solondz’ goals as a filmmaker break down into a
few common characteristics. He aims to be both sincere and hyperbolic, but
never derisive. Additionally, the comedy that he uses is to compliment the
tragedy and act as subterfuge in order to garner in provocative questions
unexpectedly. The comingling of opposites, such as comedy and tragedy, is consistent
with the overall balance he instills in the narrative and visual aspects of his
films, and this is a mirror of his philosophy of revelation through symmetry. Deviancy and abnormality is not
a separate school of humanity, and not an anomaly. It is an integral part of
the canon.
Comedic Style and Anti-Satire
The function of satire is to point
follies in humanity. The subgenre of “black comedy” often takes the route of
making fun of its subjects rather than examining them, making itself a kind of
folly and a target for satire as well. The aim of Todd Solondz is easily
mistakable for this new, derisive form of comedy. However, taking a look at the
style of his humor, and the context it is placed in, reveals a surprising
softness than is readily visible. For starters, his jokes are remarkably
uncomplicated. He warns young filmmakers that, “the danger is always being
clever. Cleverness is a facility some of us have that we like to show off, to
show off how smart we are. That’s a very dangerous kind of seduction”.
What makes his films comedic are often the moments of very simplistic
exchanges. In Happiness, Bill
Maplewood has an extremely awkward conversation with his son about what
“cumming” is. The son cries because he feels like an outcast for not being able
to ejaculate. Bill holds the weeping eleven-year-old boy and reassuringly tells
him he is normal, and says, “Hey…You’ll cum. One day,” and gives him a loving
tap on the arm. In the loose sequel to the film, Life During Wartime, Trish (formerly Trish Maplewood), tells her
son, Timmy (Billy’s younger brother), about her date with Harvey Wiener. She
excitedly tells him she’s in love, and says upon physical contact with him that
she “got wet…all over”. Timmy later asks her if she is still wet. Solondz uses
this device to incite laughter over the simultaneously deadpan and outlandish nature
of these exchanges.
Conversely, he often writes dialogue
that seems so exaggeratedly fitting for a character that it sometimes seems
derisive, until the dramatic and complex nature of the situations are instilled
in the scene, making it both humorous and tragic. When Mama Sunshine tells Aviva in
Palindromes why she cares so much
about children, she tells her the story of one her failures. She says, “Last year, our special daughter Nainika ran away
and... she didn't even have any legs. She wanted to return to her birthplace in
India. Poor child, she didn't even make it as far as India, Tennessee!” The
audience laughs at her melodramatics, and the outrageous situation of a
quadriplegic running away. She then tells Aviva that she was a child runaway,
which is why she cares so much. Sobbing, she swears to Aviva, “All God’s
children…So long as I’m here, I’m gonna do whatever it takes, come what may, to
protect them”. Not only does the scene become incredibly emotional, but Mama
Sunshine transforms from a caricature into a mirror of Aviva herself— lost,
hopeful, and motherly. The over-the-top humor of her dialogue becomes
endearing, rather than judgmental. It is this type of tragi-comedy that Solondz
employs. He has never adopted satire as the term for his comedic style, saying
of Palindromes, “There is a
satirical thrust, but satire suggests the films have no emotional life. I feel
it's reductive, in the same way as it's reductive to call me a cynical
misanthrope”.
It is the emotional life Solondz speaks of that takes precedence over the cultural
or political statements, or the harshness that characterizes black comedy. As
for the topics being addressed, the comedy is used as a context for them, not
to lambast them. The director intends for there to be a certain level of
understanding and sympathy for the characters that must act in light of these
prevalent social issues. He asserts that Palindromes, “doesn't function as agit-prop […] The
hot-button issues wouldn't be meaningful if the film didn't have an emotional
core, if it didn't provide some sort of consolation, some 'you are not alone-ness'”. The portrayal of serious and divisive issues is to examine how someone directly affected by those issues will navigate
through the many dilemmas that will result from them, not to necessarily take a stance on either side of the issue itself. This method is attained, often, through intensely engaging and sympathetic characters.
Dark
Horse is where this is the hardest to see. Abe is
arguably Todd’s most unlikeable protagonist. In one of the film’s most comedic
scenes, Abe goes off on a rant in front of his mother about the selfishness in
humanity in a the most clichéd manor possible. He overdramatically laments that,
“if there's any kindness or generosity, it
only comes after being well-fed, or having good sex, or knowing that you
weren't wiped out like all the other suckers on Wall Street!” His childishness
and entitlement approaches parody, his hypocrisy becomes unbearable. Yet, as
the film progresses, the insurmountable failures of his life begin to
stack. He becomes incredibly sad, although still not entirely sympathetic.
Solondz, attempts to win the audience’s favor for Abe, though, by including
subtle promises of change. He begins a journey to become an adult, but because
of his stunted maturity, he is woefully unable to forge a real connection with
others. “He puts himself out there,” says Todd, “but he puts himself out there
in a way that’s doomed”.
It becomes hard to see how he will ever change his life, despite his
willingness to do so. As he nears an abrupt and unfair death, he comes to
realize how he has failed himself, despite being so privileged. To Solondz, the
film is, “kind of a death trip. It’s a guy who’s cornered and trapped and
trying to find an escape”.
He is an adult child who cannot make sense of the resources at his disposal,
trying to achieve success in the wrong way, time and time again. Additionally,
the sympathy for the character can be credited to the casting of Jordan Gelber
as Abe, whose performance and appearance provide the character with
overwhelming pathos.
This isn't to say
that Solondz has never approached the realm of satire. He just hasn't utilized
it in the common or modern incarnations. Rather, he approaches it in layers, satirizing
what has come to be known as satire itself. His self-evaluative response to the
claims that his work his either satirical or callous is the basis of Storytelling. In it, he divides the film
into “Fiction” and “Nonfiction”, the latter containing the most personal and
reflexive examination of his own methods. In a review from Nation, Stuart Klawans observes that, “Even the most not-for-profit filmmaker--a documentarian, a
socially responsible type--may turn a corner in his soul and discover a beast
in the path, gnawing on the bones of an interview subject”.
Todd Solondz, certainly not-for-profit, and a sort of fictional documentarian,
writes himself in the role of documentary-filmmaker Toby Oxman, played by Paul
Giamatti. In a scene with Toby’s editor,
she tells him, “You’re showing how superior you are to your subject”. He
passionately responds that he loves them, which she doesn’t believe. His
unclear filmmaking vision makes it hard for the audience to believe him,
either. Later, he has put together an incredibly pretentious and dry work with
both music and narration parodying American
Beauty. His editor likes it, calling it “provocative”. He frustratingly
says that, “It should be somewhat entertaining!” The editor represents the cold
and cynical class of critics whose tendency it is to overlook the sincerity of
Solondz’ work and characterize it as derisive due its farcical tone. Solondz
effectively refutes the belief that a more objective and high-brow tone will
give the subjects dignity, as if maintaining a façade of professionalism will
somehow make him more humble. Like Toby, he cannot deny any type of humor that
will arise in various situations, good or bad. At the same time, Toby is
criticized by Solondz, perhaps to stand as Todd’s admission of his own artistic
flaws. His work has unknowingly exploited the Livingston family, particularly the son, Scooby. The irony, though, is that in the reality of the film, Scooby is given
a very personal and sympathetic treatment by Solondz. His naïveté is seen as
endearing, and he deals with very real struggles and ostracizing by his peers
(he loses friends when it gets out that he engaged in a homosexual encounter
with a classmate). In Toby’s documentary, Scooby is portrayed only as a
buffoon. The so-called “objective” piece that Toby produces is in fact devoid
of empathy, while the story Todd creates in the film itself is emotional. In
general, Todd’s films can be described as sincere, though not necessarily
optimistic. However, as a filmmaker, he has claimed that “making
any film is a great gesture of optimism”.
As is evident by the deadpan humor, and the outlandish yet deeply human and
tormented state of his characters (or subjects, representations of specific
walks of life), his films are emphatically not critical. They are sarcastic,
perhaps, but only with an accompanying current of sincerity and lightness. The
humor, tone, and visual style are comparable to what can be seen in traditional
comedies. Furthermore, they are used as a device to initially incite comfort,
but then to provoke. The jokes and “gags” function as pure comedy as well as
subversion.
2. Parallels to Sitcoms and Rom-Coms as Subversion
In a preface to an interview,
Jessica Hundley describes Welcome to the
Dollhouse as “discomforting realism”.
This is a bit overzealous. While there is an undercurrent of understood reality
in the film (and the rest of Todd’s work), his tone is specifically
over-the-top and quirky. Visually, they are almost always shot brightly and
flatly, like a conventional romantic comedy. The cinematographer for Dark Horse, Andrij Parekh, told
journalist Jon Silberg about the very simple shooting and lighting
requirements, including the main use of only two kinds of lenses. He maintains
that Solondz, “definitely cares about the camera
and lighting, but his primary concern is the script and the actors, and he
wants the images to have a very natural, straightforward look.” Silberg,
himself, aptly states that, “there is a kind of deadpan quality to the
director’s work that extravagant lighting or camera work could only interfere
with”.
A major visual characteristic of Todd’s work is the frequency of non-cosmetic
shots. There is a general absence of moody lighting, stylistic camera movement,
or picturesque framing (although not exclusively. More complex
cinematography is often a deliberate contrast to his established visual
concept). Solondz has spoken about when he first began to arrive at this
technique. When filming Welcome to the
Dollhouse, he had originally planned one of the scenes where Brandon
corners and threatens Dawn to take place in a dark and foreboding staircase.
When unable to find a suitable location, he moved the scene outside, in front
of a soccer game. He described the visual as, “a beautiful sunny day,
children playing soccer having a lovely time, having fun. And it becomes a
scene where it’s implicitly understood that the world doesn't care. The world
goes about its wonderful business”.
Many describe film noir lighting as similar to a character in itself. If this
is true, then visuals of Todd Solondz are deliberately uncharacteristic, to
imply that the film never persuades bad things to happen, bad things simply
occur within it. In addition to the shooting style, his films include many parallels
to “feel good” movies, often to create an antithesis to them.
In a very
unorthodox fashion, Todd Solondz draws influences from thematic opposites to
borrow their style. Surprisingly, he says, “The first movie I saw
was Mary Poppins followed up shortly
after that with The Sound of Music. I’m
sure, I know, it had an impact on me. I loved the films as a child, and
certainly I couldn't have come up with the Sunshine Singers in Palindromes without the Von Trapp
family”.
The homages to light-hearted, optimistic genres are very prevalent in his
films. Welcome to the Dollhouse
responds to the popular genre of coming-of-age films with Dawn, whose faces
constant disappointment, rather than growth, and is no better off than she was
at the beginning of the film, although perhaps wiser. Todd’s intention for Dark Horse was to have a character seen
in slacker comedies, describing them as “kind of cuddly cute”,
but to show him struggling with that type of lifestyle instead of gleaning off
of it. For a scene where Abe’s parents are watching Seinfeld¸ Solondz wrote original dialogue for Jason Alexander,
Jerry Stiller, and Estelle Harris to record rather than buy the rights to the
show. It was important to have that parallel. He explains, saying, “I saw this
as kind of a counterpoint to the Jason Alexander character and his parents. […]
the idea was that that’s the funny, comical version, and this is the
counter-life”.
In addition to film and television parallels, there are frequently out of place
and upbeat songs in the soundtracks to his films. Several times in Dark Horse¸ the original song “Who You
Wanna Be” by Michael Kisur plays, in a light alternative rock style, the lyrics
expressing self-discovery and happiness. Following the unsettling ending of Palindromes, the end credits play with a Christian pop song performed by the Sunshine Singers. There is a very strong effort on
Solondz’ part to constantly go against what fits, through these antithetical
stylistic choices. This is a preferred device of his, in order to channel the
emotional appeal of comedy into a more confrontational and complex discussion.
To accomplish subversion, Solondz writes
situations that alternate between comedic and serious, whether the latter is
acting as tragic, foreboding, jarring, etc. In Happiness¸ Bill Maplewood has two candid father-son conversations.
In the first, it is a humorous scene where “the talk”, more or less, is given.
In the second, Billy sits horrified while his father tearfully and honestly
confesses to the rape of his friend in detail. In Welcome to the Dollhouse¸ Dawn’s younger sister, Missy, is written
as horribly obnoxious. Missy is doted on by her parents, while Dawn is ignored,
transforming Missy into an unlikeable foil and a very relatable annoyance to
anyone who has siblings. Missy is then kidnapped, shattering the stability of
the family and ushering in dark implications of possible child abuse. This
reverses the viewer’s opinion. Todd describes the shift as, “Just as you may
fantasize that you want your little sister to be kidnapped or killed or
something horrible, once the reality of that happens, however, it jolts you in
a way that forces you to grow up. Therein lies the irony that this is the
little girl that you--that probably everyone in the audience--had wished something
terrible might happen to”.
Another, very striking scene, is when Dawn goes to the spot with Brandon so he
can rape her. After a few moments of uncomfortable conversation, it becomes
clear that neither knows what rape is. Solondz uses this frightening and
disturbing context to create a lighthearted moment, saying, “I love the idea
that this ‘rape’ becomes the moment of greatest tenderness. When she says, ‘I'm
sorry for being such a cunt,’ the word cunt is transformed from the ugliest
word in the dictionary to a beautiful word, or funny, in a way”.
This point is strengthened, as well, because it leads into the tentative
friendship of Dawn and Brandon. In
Storytelling, Scooby is set up in a context of buffoonery. He is very easy
to laugh at, and given his dialogue (I’m not an idiot. I watch T.V.), Solondz
wants him to be. Then, at the end, an audience is shown laughing at Scooby
during a test screening of Toby’s documentary while he watches. He arrives
home, humiliated, to see that his family has been killed. These scenes
communicate a certain method of Solondz’, where a context is established and
then cut through from the opposite tonal direction.
Conventionally, a context
is used as a vehicle for one consistent type of tone. Solondz is adamantly
against tonal consistency, or that which results in viewer satisfaction saying
“You walk out of the movie having made this
identification and feeling so much better about yourself. There’s this great,
fantastic, narcissistic high. But when you go to one of my movies, you’re not
going to get that narcissistic high. I’m not there to pat you on the back. I
bristle at any kind of complacency”.
In order to make this method convenient, the aforementioned fusion of comedy
and tragedy, as well as constant opposing contexts and scenarios in his work
allow for tonal and thematic reversals to occur with immediacy. There is
an overwhelming presence of comparisons, parallels, and opposite extremes in
his work.
3. Symmetry
In his review of Welcome to the Dollhouse, Roger Ebert
reflects, “I can recall today with perfect
accuracy the names and faces of11-year-olds who made my life miserable. If I
met them today, so many years later, would I forgive and forget? Not a chance.
I still hate them. Was I also cruel? Did I have my own victims? Strange, but I
can’t remember”. Dawn Wiener is best
known as one of Todd Solondz’ most persecuted protagonists. In the film, she is
treated relentlessly and unfairly, yet Todd does not shy away from showing ways
in which she might deserve ridicule. When Dawn’s equally persecuted friend,
Ralphie, phones the house during one of her bad moods, she loudly refuses to
talk to him, saying “Hang it up, I don’t want to speak to that faggot!” and
later that, “I hope he rots in hell”. Ralphie listens heartbroken on the other
line. Later, she decides not to tell Missy that their mom won't be picking her
up out of spite, a decision that leads to Missy’s kidnapping. In this manner,
Dawn is set apart from typical coming-of-age heroes by being portrayed as a cog
in the wheel of bullying, not solely a victim. This practice is best described
by a friend of Solondz, Bruce Wagner, who says, “My feeling is that Todd
Solondz has no goal in this life other than to express the symmetry of a place
whose angered, enraptured, innocent, poisonous species hold him in their
thrall”. Symmetry
is the definitive word of Todd’s method. In addition to the portrayal of
characters, there is deliberate design of concurrent and complementary opposites propagating in the narrative. In Palindromes,
nearly every character, situation, or morality has a counterpoint. Mama
Sunshine is an endearing, lovable, and selfless woman-- a sillier mother
Teresa. Her husband, Bo, is a terrorist. Aviva starts off young and innocent,
afraid of becoming pregnant and having a bad life like her late cousin Dawn.
She then becomes pregnant like she feared, and has an abortion. Later, she aids
in the botched assassination of an abortion doctor. Todd comments on this moral
relativism, saying “I think it’s a profoundly
human thing, that basically we all believe we're good people. Even Stalin, on
his deathbed, thought he was a good person. The person who murders the
abortionist is, in his mind, saving a million unborn babies”.
The symmetry is set up in the central conceit of the film, as well, having
Dawn’s journey be portrayed by eight diverse actors, who reappear in reverse
order as the film comes to a resolution.
Another example would be Storytelling, which includes symmetry
inherently with a bifurcated narrative. In the “Fiction” segment, there are
several scenes that drastically turn away from the flat and neutral visual
style of the rest of Todd’s films. When Vi approaches Mr. Scott in the bar,
they are lit in both the erotic and the foreboding color of red. When they have
sex, the lighting is low key and sinister. Then, in “Nonfiction”, both the
visual style and the story and characters are exaggeratedly neutral and
stereotypically suburban. Stuart Klawans observes in his review of the film in Nation that, “Solondz
has cast the spherical John Goodman as husband to linear Julie Hagerty,
creating a classic sight gag. What interests me, though, isn't just the
contrast of physical types; it's the way that the contrast is hilarious with
the Livingstons but not funny at all with Vi and Mr. Scott”.
This sight gag at one time evokes disgust, and then at another time evokes a
tickled or enthusiastic response. The contrast between Vi and Mr. Scott creates
tension and discomfort, but the contrast between Mr. and Mrs. Livingston is an
extremely familiar and comfortable one. Racial divides are likened to the
divide seen in pairs like Ralph and Alice Kramden or Homer and Marge Simpson.
Of course, this parallel is not an indictment of those comedic contrasts, but another
device of symmetry. Vi and Mr. Scott’s differences catalyze fetishism and
deviancy, while the contrast with the Livingstons is a more loving and gentle,
“opposites attract” type of coupling. Yet the same method is used to convey
those traits. The sight gag works on the same level, suggesting that neither
the situation is more typical or atypical. Symmetry ultimately functions as an
equalizer, to suggest that abnormality does not exist, and that deviancy is not
alien.
4. Deviancy is Normal and Conclusion
The perception that Solondz is
somehow trying to shock or offend audiences with controversial subjects is
incorrect. Todd allays this, saying, “I don't think any of my subjects
are particularly alien to anyone who lives on our planet […] all these sorts of
subjects are out there. My role is in some way I respond to and reshape the
experience of understanding the kind of things we're assaulted with on such a
regular basis”. Solondz
is an inclusive filmmaker, not an exclusive one. All of his methods and
trademarks serve this ideal. While farcical, the execution of the characters
and story are empathetic and complex rather than judgmental. There are no
stifling rulings over anything. Mockery is never the intention of the comedic
aspects of his films. In life’s complexity, some things can be surprisingly
funny or surprisingly profound, sometimes even profoundly disturbing, though
never alien. Todd Solondz is not an alienating filmmaker. On the contrary, his
films are intended to be relatable. Eight actors play Aviva in his film Palindromes. Each actor has a name and
appearance that represents a new part of Aviva’s journey, but even more so, it
makes the character universal, as Solondz puts it, “When I made Welcome to the Dollhouse people of all
shapes and sizes -- a beautiful slender model, a big fat truck driver -- would
come up to me after the film and say, ‘That was me. I was Dawn Wiener.’ So what
I'm doing now is saying, ‘You can all be this young girl’”.
Despite its
peculiarity, his unorthodox approach often resonates. His treatment of Welcome to the Dollhouse is over-the
top, but people relate to it because it externalizes the inner-drama of
adolescence. In Palindromes¸ it
becomes fitting to have eight actors play Aviva when, as an adolescent, she is
struggling to find and maintain an identity, like every teenager. Happiness lays out a wide tapestry of
several characters in pursuit of the humanity’s most prized and hard to find
commodity, and sometimes people don't deserve it. If only Bill Maplewood could
make love to young boys, then he would be happy. Yet, the harm that he causes
his family to go through as a result of his pedantry brings the opposite of
what he was in search of. Bill Maplewood is a despicable human being, but a
human nonetheless, trying to navigate life’s challenges, trying to be happy.
Todd says of Abe in Dark Horse, “I
never want to soften the truth of what a character’s about. My aim, rather, is
by the end of the film, the audience will come to look at him in a different
way. That beneath the bluster, the obnoxiousness, let’s say, is a kind of
pulse—a real human soul struggling and bleeding. And that moves me”.
His films are not an indictment, but an examination, with the mode of humor
being only a reflection of life’s complexity, the comedy being both a study of
context and subversion. He does not suggest that perversion lurks around
corners. Rather, he suggests that it is all around us, interwoven into society,
not at all separated or contained.
Ebert, Roger.
"Palindromes" Rev. of Film.
Chicago Sun-Times 28 April 2005: n. pag. RogerEbert.Com. Web. 21 Aug. 2014.
ManateeEducationalTV.
“In Conversation With Todd Solondz”. Online video clip. YouTube. Sarasota Film Festival, 14 May 2012. Web. 21 Apr. 2014
Solondz, Todd.
"The Last Laugh." Sight &
Sound 15.5 (2005): 29. Film &
Television Literature Index.
Web. 26 Apr. 2014.
Klawans,
Stuart. "Family Dynamics." Nation
274.(2002): 35-37. Film & Television
Literature Index. Web. 26 Apr. 2014.
Hundley,
Jessica. "Todd Solondz Loves You." MovieMaker Magazine. N.p., 23 Mar.
2005. Web. 26 Apr. 2014.
<http://www.moviemaker.com/articles-directing/todd-solondz-loves-you-2905/>.
Silberg, Jon.
"'Dark Horse:' Andrij Parekh on Digital Cinematography, Difficult Subjects
and Director Todd Solondz."
Creative Planet Network. New Bay
Media, 22 Aug. 2012. Web. 26 Apr. 2014. <http://www.creativeplanetnetwork.com/digital-cinematography/news/dark-horse-andrij-parekh-digital- cinematography-difficult- qsubjects-and-director-todd-solondz/6022>
IUCinema. “10
Questions for Todd Solondz”. Online video clip. YouTube. Indiana University, 7 February 2013. Web. 21 Apr. 2014
Cross, Alice.
"Surviving Adolescence With Dignity: An Interview With Todd Solondz."
Cineaste 22.3 (1996): 24. Film
& Television Literature Index. Web. 26 Apr. 2014.
WAGNER, BRUCE.
"Life Sentences." Film Comment
46.4 (2010): 44-47. Film & Television
Literature Index. Web. 26 Apr.
2014.
