STORYTELLING
by James Snapko
Todd Solondz has taken a lot of grief for his previous films Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) and Happiness (1998). The biggest gripe that some critics have with his films is his manipulation of the characters. It's said that he doesn't care for the people in his films, as if he's the master puppeteer controlling their every move in order to put them into painful and uncomfortable situations. While it's true that he has total control over his characters, and that they generally seem depraved, lost, and in pain, I don't believe this means that he doesn't care for them. I would argue the opposite. From the evidence of his films, I see Solondz as someone who has a deep understanding and empathy for people who are manipulated, humiliated, and abused.

In his new film, Storytelling Solondz appears to be grappling in many ways with this widespread criticism of his work. Divided into two sections; "Fiction" and "Non-fiction" (apparently inspired by Kubrick's binary narrative structure in Full Metal Jacket), this movie feels like his previous efforts in that it exposes the ugliness of humanity. Sexuality, power, and the search for the truth are the main themes that guide the film. Where it differs is in the form through which these themes are presented.

The first part, "Fiction," adopts the distant feeling of an academic exercise. It tells the story of a young creative writing student named Vi (Selma Blair). The opening scene shows her having sex (and at the moment of orgasm) with her boyfriend Marcus (Leo Fitzpatrick). Marcus has cerebral palsy. While lying together, Marcus asks Vi if she'd like to hear the new ending to his short story (they're classmates). Vi is not interested, and Marcus takes exception to her apathy. It becomes clear that Vi's reasons for dating Marcus aren't completely honorable. She views him with pity, and by dating him she's become a better person in her own mind.

Most of the film's characters have similarly ambivalent motives for their actions. Vi's writing instructor Mr. Scott (Robert Wisdom) has his own sadistic reasons for belittling his students in and out of class. Solondz uses Mr. Scott in a complicated way. He's a black intellectual with a strong perverse side that causes other people psychological pain. He represents the ultimate threat, and at the same time he has surely been on the receiving end of corrupt power and oppression. When Vi gets involved with Mr. Scott outside of class, she does so under her own misperceptions of the truth, which are ultimately self-defeating.

Another interesting element of "Fiction" is how the class becomes the perfect critiquing mechanism for the characters' actions outside of the classroom. Vi and Marcus share their versions of the "truth" in their lightly veiled autobiographical prose. Marcus' version is about redemption and vanquishing disability, while Vi's is a confession of her self-destructive decisions. The class champions Marcus' story (which is comically touching but sentimental) and chides Vi's for it's racist and callow character. The reflexivity of these comments cleverly illuminates the entire scheme of the film.

The second part, "Non-fiction" appears to be more autobiographical. Solondz makes his points through narrative self-reference, wrestling with the theme of power and the question of what truth really is. This story concerns Toby Oxman (Paul Giamatti), a documentary filmmaker who wants to make a movie about what teenagers go through on their way to college and how high-school life has changed as a result of Columbine. His aspirations are honorable; he appears to be after the right thing. But power and manipulation hinder Toby's effort to reveal the truth.

His film focuses on Scooby (Mark Webber), a burned-out high school student, who thinks life is meaningless. He hates his parents and his school, and his only dream is to be a talk-show host. As it turns out, Toby's truth about Scooby is not what Scooby had in mind. The young man feels betrayed, and at one point Toby tells him, "Don't worry, your movie's a hit." This comment surely resonates with Solondz because Toby can be seen as his alter ego. His vision started as one thing and became something entirely different when he was forced (in some cases) to change his film. Is he acting superior to his subjects or is he exposing Scooby for what he is?

The big questions of truth are continually made amorphous by the influence of power. Scooby's parents (John Goodman and Julie Hagerty) have control over him, while Scooby's youngest brother shows (in perhaps the most disturbing of ways) that power isn't always dependent on age. Scooby's parents employ a Salvadoran woman who is the recipient of continuous oppressive attitudes. She and Mr. Scott are at the opposite ends of the spectrum in the film, yet in many ways they are alike.

The characters all have their own reasons for their actions, and while it may seem discouraging and frightening to be shown how people can be so degraded, the film's disturbing vision is, I think, an important one. Power, used in order to hurt people, means everything. Corruption is ever present, and Solondz adroitly shows that the truth is only seen in the context of power and control. It takes an outstanding filmmaker to bring such darkness to light.

©2002 James Snapko
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