Shaun Of The Dead vs American Beauty

Back in 1999, I declared American Beauty my favorite movie of the year. It seemed so smart and funny and cynical, but it had a heart too. It tapped into something, at that time, that we needed. It broke through the depression, danger and sex of the suburbs by putting a sitcom sheen over everything, that way when the wounds were exposed, they'd seem all the more bloody and truthful. And I fell for it.

I watched American Beauty again last night. Anyone else done this lately? Was it always so shrill? So campy? So obvious and labored and heavy-handed? Did it used to smack us around like this? I loved this movie. Loved it. And now it comes off as sort of, well, ugly. Angry.

Everybody says their lines in American Beauty as if they're coining phrases they heard on sitcoms or read on t-shirts. Annette Bening's character asks her daughter if she's trying to look ugly, in such a way that it plays like part of their routine, like some kind of inside joke. Which would be fine. It'd be fine if American Beauty were a complete satire, a full-on black comedy, but it's not. It tries to lay on the dark and funny, then expect us to accept the sentimental moments too, like when Lester has a heart-to-heart with his daughter while washing dishes, or when he narrates about his dead grandma's hands.

By the way, Kevin Spacey's narration is among the least necessary I've ever heard. “My daughter Jane. Only child. Janey's a pretty typical teen: angry, insecure, confused.” Well, wouldn't we get this just by watching the movie? It happens over and over. Lester voice-overs things that are obvious. And the music is just as intrusive, as is the random stop-start/slow-mo dream sequences. The first one is effective, I suppose, as their daughter's dance squad performs at half-time. (Even though there is no way their downer daughter would ever join the dance squad, and no way the dance squad would dance to On Broadway). Mena Suvari is probably perfectly cast as the jailbait object of Lester's awakening, and she gives a fun, catty performance. Their scene at the end, with Lester preparing to heal himself fully by getting his barely-legal on with the girl next door, isn't—I'm almost positive—supposed to be creepy. But it is, a little.

There are some saving graces. The performances in American Beauty are great all-around. Once you understand Bening's character, she becomes the most tragic in the movie. She cleans a house she wants to sell, spouting pop-psych affirmations, then breaks down into a fit of face-slapping when the house fails to impress anyone. The new neighbors are such clichés they belong on Strangers With Candy, but Chris Cooper and Allison Janney are good, as the retired Marine officer and his catatonic wife. And Wes Bentley gives the strongest performance in the movie. He's smart and funny, and when his character dips into the purer emotions, he does so sincerely, without any of the Kevin Spacey smirking.

And what is it with Spacey anyway? He's good, but Lester Burnham is such a victim. We spend the movie hearing him take not one ounce of responsibility for any of his problems, but then we're also supposed to be mentally high-fiving him when he gets his groove back. When Lester works out, smokes pot, drives a hot-rod and feels up the neighbor's daughter, we're supposed to think, “Yeah! Stickin' it to The Man!” It'd be easier if Lester didn't seem so much like the man to begin with. He's the one everybody should be rebelling from. He's the toxic boring suburban loser. You'll be dead by the end of the year all right, Lester, only it's a suicide, plain and simple.

So what happened? Was it me? Did I change? Is it because I've watched Six Feet Under (scripted by Beauty's screenwriter, Alan Ball) which takes the emotion and tone of American Beauty and applies it to more than one kind of person? Is it because I rewatched The Ice Storm, which plays all the sadness and inevitability of American Beauty, but lets us find the humor on our own? Is it because American Beauty changes tone so randomly and drastically that the shocks that once felt revolutionary now feel forced? Is it the Three's Company-level misunderstanding at the end? I don't know. But something doesn't sit right, and I wasn't even curious to investigate until I saw Shaun of the Dead.

Shaun is a lot like Lester Burnham. He's settled into a routine that is wearing him down, but he secretly likes his routine some, so doesn't complain. He works a dead-end job, then comes home to couch and play video games, over and over. His girlfriend has given up on him, his relationship with his (near-catatonic) mother is strained, and he's got a perpetual stain on his shirt. Shaun's in a rut. Like Lester, he's conformed his entire life in order to be happy, and now he's realizing that maybe rebellion could actually do the trick. But that would take effort. Instead, he just shuffles along, groaning and slouching about his business, like some zombie.

Did I mention there are zombies? There are. The world (or is it just Shaun's neighborhood?) is under a full-on George Romero-style Zombie attack. At first, Shaun and his friend Ed don't notice. The zombies fit right in. But once they catch on, and the panic wears off, Shaun finds that, wouldn't you know it, he's actually pretty good at fighting zombies. Armed with LPs and a cricket bat, Shaun takes the lead in the human revolt against the zombies, taking a small band of survivors to his favorite local pub, where they'll hole up and you know, eat pork rinds and maybe play some music. It's not a very good plan. It's a good movie though, and it taps into every single thing American Beauty tries, without ever getting abrasive or needy or clichéd. American Beauty knows, just knows, that it's going to inspire and uplift us, and make us think and make us talk about it for months and give it Oscars. Shaun of the Dead exists as many things, but doesn't seem to be concerned that we'll catch any of it. If we just think it's fun, fine. If we think it's scary, okay. If we're moved, then all the better. Shaun has deathbed moments with his mother and stepfather that are miles away from anything anyone deals with emotionally in American Beauty, and each scene takes about three seconds. His relationship with his girlfriend is as complex as that of Spacey and Bening, and I found myself actually sorry that they might not live to see the credits (a problem Lester Burnham doesn't have? Anyone missing him when he's gone). As Shaun, Simon Pegg is wonderful, and gives a layered, nuanced performance that is completely unheard of in this genre (this genre being British Romantic Comedy Horror). He lets us discover things about his character in subtle ways, with no narration, or yelling or soundtrack cues. And he fights zombies. Zombies, I tell ya. Do that, American Beauty.

Shaun of the Dead: A-
American Beauty (amended, from A): B-