Review

As caustic as Drano, screenwriter Alan Ball and director Sam Mendes' sly portrait of the kind of family commonly dubbed "dysfunctional" demonstrates that positive change can always be reordered into a turn for the worse. Kevin Spacey adds to his gallery of stunningly fine performances as he narrates the story of his character's giddy liberation from middle class expectations. He plays Lester Burnham, an ad exec married to nauseatingly ambitious realtor and gung-ho consumer Carolyn (Annette Bening). Lester has had it with their perfectly maintained white picket fence "lifestyle." The zing has gone out of their marriage, and their morosely lucid teen daughter, Jane (Thora Birch), is just biding her time until she can get out of their lovely, sterile neighborhood.

Lester makes some abrupt changes once he lays eyes on his daughter's Lolita-like classmate, Angela Hayes (Mena Suvari), who's majoring in leading remarks and frank sex talk. The Burnhams' new neighbors, the military-minded Fitts, include teen son Ricky (Wes Bentley), who leads a double life with more flair and assurance than most people can muster while leading one straightforward life.

There is a sublime moment in American Beauty when a plastic bag caught in a lilting eddy of air conveys more about the title commodity than any given bevy of SuperModels could ever hope to do. Theater director Mendes ("Cabaret," "The Blue Room") working from a taut, often laugh-out-loud screenplay by Ball, has hit the critical and box-office jackpot on his first venture into movie directing.

In the atmosphere of awards and award nominations showered upon American Beauty, it's worth noting that there is nothing particularly new or innovative about the film. It's entertaining, it appears to embody snippets of social critique and yet this very same movie wouldn't have stood out much back in say, 1972 -73, when the world's free-standing pre-multiplex cinema screens hosted daring, messy movies for grown-ups, like The Mother and the Whore and Last Tango in Paris. There is nothing ground-breaking about American Beauty. It feels like a renegade movie without actually being one. That's far from a crime - and any opportunity to watch Spacey prowl the screen in full command of his superlative acting chops is a good one.

As in any well-crafted yarn, none of the major characters are exactly what they appear to be. Although Lester blithely informs us via his opening voice-over that he'll be dead in less than a year, we root for him as he regains his youthful enthusiasm as best a man in his forties can. Somewhat nebulous Lester starts pumping iron. He finds increased job satisfaction by switching jobs in a direction that would not occur to most people by choice.

American movies have always championed characters who initiate positive change. But, would there be any point in a fruit fly trying to "better himself"? Given his 24-hour lifespan, wouldn't he be just as well off doing the fruit fly equivalent to drinking beer and watching TV? Thomas Newman's wind chime-inflected music adds immeasurably to the mood of Zen transformation.

American Beauty is as dark as Main Street during a total eclipse, suspenseful and funny. Poking holes in the American Dream was a staple of American cinema in the 1970s; American Beauty wields the hole punch for whatever we end up calling the decade we've just embarked upon.

FilmFestivals.com reporter
Lisa Nesselson