Greenberg is now showing at Cinemapolis, 120 Green Street in Ithaca. Call (607) 277-6115 for movie showtimes.
By Kathryn Andryshak
WE DON’T WANT to identify with Noah Baumbach characters. Something about his presentation of failed relationships, isolation, self-scrutiny, regret, and anger provokes viewers to wonder whether they, too, are broken, frail, and sometimes, insufferable individuals. But as a writer and director, Baumbach delivers characters of tender authenticity and magnetism that proffer effortless viewer associations. His most recent film, Greenberg, stars Ben Stiller as Roger Greenberg, a character who cannot rationalize the concept that competencies and capabilities no longer correlate to age or experience. Thus emerges a smart, yet selfish and damaged individual who is bent on hurting everyone around him. Unlike some of his previous films, though, Baumbach leaves viewers with a sense of optimism; for all of our shitty, self-destructive tendencies, if we let ourselves, we can be happy.
Although he began writing and directing in the mid 1990s, Baumbach gained notoriety from recent projects like The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, which he co-wrote with Wes Anderson. He wrote and directed The Squid and the Whale (2005) starring Laura Linney and Jeff Daniels, which won two awards at the Sundance Film Festival and received an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Screenplay, as well as Margot at the Wedding (2007), starring his wife, Jennifer Jason Leigh (who also co-wrote and directed Greenberg), Nicole Kidman, Jack Black, and John Tuturo. He also co-wrote the screenplay for the film adaptation of Roald Dahl’s Fantastic Mr. Fox – another Wes Anderson collaboration.
Greenberg is a 41-year-old, single, Brooklyn-based carpenter who relocates to Los Angeles to house-sit for his successful brother (Chris Messina), who is vacationing with his family in Vietnam. Recently released from a psychiatric hospital, Greenberg desires a fresh start. Although, caught up on past mistakes, Greenberg lacks the drive to make this fresh start actually transpire. He is resolved to build a dog house for his brother’s dog, Mahler, and other than that he does little else. When not writing complaint letters to corporations, local officials, or any entity that has done him wrong, Greenberg attempts to reconnect with old friends. However, former band mate, Ivan (Rhys Ifans), who is working to repair himself and his marriage (itself a casualty of one of Greenberg’s past decisions), has little sympathy or interest for the newly resurfaced Greenberg. Likewise, Beth (Leigh), with whom he wants to rekindle a past love, has moved on. The members of his social circle have melded to schedules dominated by relationships and children – conditions of life he has yet to understand.
Greenberg does, however, recognize a connection with his brother’s twenty-something personal assistant and aspiring singer, Florence (Greta Gerwig); unfortunately though, Greenberg cannot manage a platonic or sexual affair with the adorable character. Often donning a sexy heart-shaped smile and bare breasts, Gerwig as Florence is a pleasure to watch. Viewers may recognize aspects of themselves in the naïve yet hopeful Florence. Despite the self-proclaimed excess of random sex, Florence exhibits a sense of personal control and drive that is absent in Greenberg, who is at times devoid of any compassion or civility. But his self-centered, condescending, almost wrathful tirades may be a defense mechanism. At the core of Greenberg’s self-rendered alienation is essentially a battle to “fit in.”
Greenberg can’t integrate with the L.A. men his age; he maintains they all “dress like children,” and subsequently, “the children dress like superheroes.” Greenberg deems Florence’s flaw to be immaturity. Too young and idealistic, she perhaps reminds Greenberg of the missed opportunities of his youth. We are offered this cynicism in Greenberg’s response to Ivan’s statement that “youth is wasted on the young.” “I’d go further,” Greenberg replies. “I’d go: ‘Life is wasted on people.’”
At the core of the film is an individual who feels like an outcast among people his age: Greenberg cannot understand or appreciate perspectives on a multi-generational plane and cannot see himself for who he is, which is why he is so resistant to a relationship with Florence The whiskey drinking, insult-flinging, middle-aged man can only forge a reasonable relationship with Mahler, and that may only be because the dog becomes ill on his watch, and because, ultimately, animals transcend generational identity.
The clichéd resolution, an acceptance that one cannot love another until he loves himself, is somehow unsullied and accessible. “Hurt people hurt people” – both proclamation and realization – is Greenberg’s catalyst for self-adjustment. We don’t get to see his happy ending play out, but we know it’s there. Our own happy ending may be just out of sight, but Baumbach gives us reason to believe it’s out there somewhere, just waiting for us to catch up with it.