Film Is a Battleground #12: Iced In (American Splendor, Personal Velocity, High Roller)

The rare occurrence of severe winter weather left me stranded at home for January's final weekend. I watched some movies.

AMERICAN SPLENDOR (on cable and DVD)
PERSONAL VELOCITY (on cable and DVD)
HIGH ROLLER: THE STU UNGAR STORY (on cable)

AMERICAN SPLENDOR (Robert Pulcini & Shari Springer Berman, 2003)
** (Worth seeing)

For the first hour or so, AMERICAN SPLENDOR’s ambitious mix of biopic, literary adaptation, documentary, and animation admirably captures Harvey Pekar’s worldview. Pekar can’t imagine living happily in a world that makes sense. By accepting and cataloging his own eccentricities (without romanticizing or mythologizing them) in the autobiographical “American Splendor” comic books Pekar re-casts himself as the center of a particular, peculiar world, one that most resembles a 1970s, rust-belt version of Fred Allen’s radio show.

The film loses its way when it attempts to recreate Pekar’s brief exposure in the mainstream media world as a semi-regular guest on “Late Night with David Letterman.” Pekar’s reasons for returning to the Letterman show, where he served as an eccentric straight man (presumably allowing Larry “Bud” Melman a night off) are vague, thus softening the impact of his on-air diatribe against GE that ended his participation with Letterman. Because we don’t know what drew Pekar to do the Letterman show repeatedly (he claims it was only for the money), we can’t understand why he rejects the program in such a passive-aggressive, public manner. The directors become more interested in impressing the audience with the mixture of on-air archival footage and backstage re-enactments featuring Paul Giamatti as Pekar and Hope Davis as his wife, Joyce Brabner. Unfortunately, the diatribe itself features the film’s most awkward staging. GE and/or Letterman wouldn’t allow use of the footage of Pekar’s final appearance so Giamatti is forced to deliver the rant into the vacuum of a Letterman impersonator. It’s the only moment where his performance falters.

It’s as if the filmmakers shy away from commenting on Pekar’s exposure in the mainstream media as a way to avoid acknowledging the parallels between the Letterman appearances and their own project. That’s a shame because both Pekar the man and Pekar the artist are interesting enough figures to carry an entire movie. Pulcini and Berman’s audacious attempt to integrate both of those possible movies into a single framework works exceedingly well until it threatens to reveal something of them, though the manner in which they ultimately fail further serves to illustrate Pekar’s unique talent.

PERSONAL VELOCITY (Rebecca Miller, 2002)
* (Has redeeming facet)

Rebecca Miller’s admirable attempt at creating worthy roles for talented character actresses falls victim to the too-neat, MFA quality of the three stories she adapted for the film. A failing the film accentuates by providing the most redundant use of voice-over since ME, MYSELF, AND IRENE.

“Delia” features the excellent Kyra Sedgwick in title role and is the most compelling of the three stories which makes the deflating, sub-Carver ending all the more disappointing. The second story, “Greta,” has a wistful comic energy. Parker Posey even at her most still seems on the edge of mania. Watching her, one gets the sense that being polite takes great effort. The story benefits from that tension only to squander it completely when the narrator explains the final scene lest the slower members of the audience fail to be impressed by the neatness of Miller’s conceit. The final story, “Paula,” pulls the unconnected stories together tenuously. We learn that all three stories take place at the same time, but the revelation adds no meaning. Like the Annie Ross/Lori Singer sections of SHORT CUTS, the story used to link the other stories houses little more than leftover ideas, thus lacking any inherent reason to exist.

HIGH ROLLER: THE STU UNGAR STORY (AW Vidmer, 2005)
0 stars (Has no redeeming facet)

Stu Ungar was a card playing prodigy. He was also a degenerate gambler and drug addict. Rumor and legend of his prodigious talents, appetites, and desperation overshadow the known facts of his life. Best known to the general public from his appearance in A. Alvarez’s The Biggest Game in Town, Ungar should be both a great subject for a film and a great role for an actor. In this film he’s neither. There is the consolation that this film (unlike Barry Sonnenfeld’s GET SHORTY travesty) will likely be little-seen and won’t preclude a better, bolder attempt at Ungar’s life.

I spent part of the ice storm watching early Sopranos episodes. Even in those rich surroundings, Michael Imperioli stands out as a talented and compelling actor. One wouldn’t know that from Vidmer’s film. His script sanitizes Ungar and his mise-en-scene is lifeless. Imperioli is left adrift.