American Pie 2 (2001)

IT'S TIME FOR A SECOND HELPING

Yesterday, we covered American Pie, a film about the trials, tribulations and general spurtings of a group of young people trying to get to grips with sex. It was really successful and played a big part in reviving the lost art of the teen movie, so naturally they had to do a sequel. They reassembled the whole cast (right down to the guy and his monkey) and proceeded to jump back into the fray for the next stage of romantic encounter – relationships.

After their first year at college, Jim (Jason Biggs), Oz (Chris Klein), Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas), Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) and Stifler (Seann William Scott) reunite for a summer of fun on the lake. They each still have their relationship woes, but look to change all of that by the end of their summer.

For the second outing of the Pie gang, Adam Herz returned to pen the script, this time with help from David H. Steinberg. Frankly, this is perhaps a misstep right off the bat. Whilst Herz’s solo effort last time round wasn’t exactly the stuff of greatness, it held a nice charm and warmth to it, despite the jokes about sperm and poop. Steinberg’s strokes are a bit broader, so the delicate touches get somewhat smothered by reaching for the gags about lesbians and pee. It rather says a lot that Steinberg would go on to write the kind of cheap and crass sex comedies that American Pie opened the door for. Slackers, National Lampoon’s Barely Legal, even one of the relentless sequels in the American Pie franchise The Book of Love. I really can’t get around the feeling that mild sense of homophobia that creeps it head into one scene is down to Steinberg rather than Herz. The scene I’m referring to is one where three of the guys try to get a live show from two women they think are lesbians, whose house they just snuck into. The girls decide to oblige, but only if the boys go first. As such, we’re treated to the disgusted gagging of Stifler grabbing Finch's ass and Stifler and Jim making out. The actors do make it as funny as they can, but there’s still something that may feel off to some. Nevertheless, Herz is onboard and we’ve still got the same characters that were so lovable the first time round. Like the first time, the gross scenes are coupled with moments of actual considerations on the difficulty of the long distance relationship, pretending you’re over someone when you’re not and the ever-present concern of not being bad in bed. Also, the guys and girls get pretty even treatment again, both sides having their wisdom and neuroses, their kinks and inadequacies. So, for any points that feel tired or somewhat disagreeable, there are other points to pick it up again. By the way, I’m aware that all of this maybe seems like I’m being rather unfair on Steinberg, especially since I’ll never really know who was responsible for what in the script. As such, I’ll lay equal blame and praise on both of them. Well done, Herz and Steinberg, and for shame.

The direction duties have also been relocated, here being handed to J.B. Rogers. Rogers served as the First Assistant Director on the first American Pie, as well as several other films, which included time under gross-out kings the Farrelly brothers. It’s a good choice, since Rogers is able to maintain that sense of camaraderie and friendship that had been built in the last film. However, Rogers doesn’t have the same well-developed sense of pace, so American Pie 2 feels a bit too long. The lesbian sequence was one of the comedic centrepieces of the film, but there are moments when you can see even the actors think it’s running on a bit. The party sequences are also a bit of a drag. There are too many shots of people supposedly enjoying themselves in an effort to establish location and mood, as well as looting some of the more assured touches from the first film, but it does weigh things down. Also, the music used is a rather shameless grab at the top hits of the moment rather than appropriate choices, which do cast a shadow over the scenes they’re supposed to be underscoring. Overall, it’s actually not a bad job, rather it could just use a bit of tightening up.

The actors continues to do as good a job as the last time out, with a slight re-jigging of the pecking order depending on how popular characters were in the first film. As such, Stifler, Michelle and Jim’s dad get a bit more attention. Naturally, this slightly pushes some into the background a bit, like Kevin and Vicky. However, there’s no sense that there’s bitterness about this and everyone does still remain as solid and likable as the last time. Once again, it’s thanks to the cast that what could have been something of a juvenile mess instead still comes across as quite charming and funny.

It does feel longer, it’s sometimes more soundtrack than film, and the comedy sequences are really just a rehash of the previous film’s big moments. That said, it does still have an eye for some of the slightly complicated aspects of relationships, and the cast remain as good and charming as ever. It doesn’t really have the same impact as the first, mainly because it doesn’t have the poise of the previous outing and its reliance on formula removes the potential for surprise, but it’s still a fairly decent follow-up to the first.

American Pie (1999)

THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR FIRST PIECE

Teen movies were big in the 80s. They became big business because of films like Fast Times at Ridgemont High and pretty anything John Hughes made. At some amidst this, a sub-genre took a spike as some filmmakers wanted to focus more on a specific aspect of teenage life – Sex: The Quest to Get Laid. This was an element present in Hughes films and Fast Times, but it was only part of them. Lesser titles were pretty much just cheap T&A flicks set to titillate, but in the end were rather disposable. Stuff like Private School, Losin’ It, Valley Girls, Hamburger: The Motion Picture or the more lasting Porky’s. At some point, maybe because of the whole AIDS scare thing, sex took a bit of step back from the teen flick. However, by the later portion of the 90s, the tradition was revived, assembling an attractive young cast and seeing what hormonal hi-jinx they got up to, with the film American Pie.

Jim (Jason Biggs), Oz (Chris Klein), Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas) and Kevin (Thomas Ian Nicholas) are four friends who make a pact that, before they graduate high school, they will all lose their virginity, with prom being the deadline for them to reach their goal.

The script by Adam Herz, his first, is clearly a rather fond throwback to the likes of Porky’s (Herz wrote his dissertation on Porky’s in university). As such, it’s really more of a collection of gross or awkward scenes. Not that there’s no story. There is, although it does feel somewhat episodic because of the focus on the Pale Ale scene or the Stripping scene or the Pooping scene. These scenes are quite pronounced and they are the thing you’ll remember long after the film ends, but they’re used as part of a trade-off with the audience. The scenes of gross-out humour are what bring the youngsters in, but the reason it wants to talk to them at all is to talk about sex.

What separates American Pie from other sex comedies aimed at young folk, like Porky’s or Slackers or even National Lampoon’s Animal House, is the frank and actually rather considered approach to the character’s attitudes towards sex. Yes, they talk about it a lot and can’t wait to do it, and the film takes great fun in dragging out their hormonal exploits, but there is some actual growth in these characters. Towards the end, they begin to consider the idea that being in a rush to lose their virginity may not be as high priority as they think. And even if they do, it’s still no one’s business but their own. Pressure to get it done, whether from friends or yourself, will just end up making you hate sex before you even have it. There’s also genuine conversation about love vs. lust, which goes beyond just the tokenism displayed in other teen comedies.

Further to this careful discussion, American Pie holds a cast of really rather well drawn characters, defined from each other and all holding some aspect of familiarity with the audience. In your school years, you know people like Jim or Stifler or Michelle. That we are already so familiar with these types of people means that the message of the film is presented in a far more approachable manner. It wouldn’t work if the characters were too abstract or too flat. They do seem real and so their thoughts and feelings do, too. What’s actually very refreshing for this type of film is the care taken with the female characters. So often are they nothing more than The Goal, and so tend to be one-dimensional and unrelatable. In American Pie, the girls are just as confused by their hormones as the guys, they just handle it a bit better. None of the girls in our immediate range are bitchy or dumb or a target for our spite. No one is. Even a dick like Stifler is still strangely likable.

The cast all pull their weight admirably. Jason Biggs is a great nervous presence as Jim (and Eugene Levy is superb as his lovable, repressed dad); Seann William Scott simply is Stifler; Natasha Lyonne’s Jessica is great; and Alyson Hannigan steals the whole film with a performance carefully controlled and geared towards a single line of dialogue. Even Tara Reid is good.

American Pie is a deceptively sweet film, which nimbly offers the standard gross-out gags along with a surprisingly mature perspective on sex as relates to teenagers. The premise is sufficiently simple to allow an easy flow of humour, the characters are defined and the performances are good all round. The franchise may have been somewhat devalued by the subsequent straight-to-DVD sequels, but the first time out is certainly worth the watch.

American Beauty (1999)

... LOOK CLOSER

There’s something about the notion of the perfect American family living in the perfect American suburb that has made it be the regular focus of plays and novels and films. Blue Velvet, Happiness, Revolutionary Road, The Stepford Wives, Safe, even The ‘burbs… they all proffer the idea of suburban living as something unsettling, a fragile veneer covering a dark secret, that there’s something ugly beneath that perfectly manicured lawn. Well, what happens when the people living there simply can’t take it anymore? In 1999, writer Alan Ball and first time director Sam Mendes had their crack at the subject with American Beauty.

Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) is a depressed suburban father who is completely ignored by his wife Carolyn (Annette Bening) and daughter Jane (Thora Birch). When Lester enters a mid-life crisis, brought on by feelings for his daughter’s friend, he decides to turn his life around and try to recapture whatever it was he lost in his life.

I’m a big fan of Alan Ball, and I would feel pretty happy saying that even if all I’d seen of his work was True Blood. Working in sitcoms through the 90s, American Beauty was his first feature film script, and it is an excellent start. It’s a black comedy that’s really very funny, it’s a poignant drama musing on the human spirit, it’s a satire with elements of a mystery, and it’s a love story. Several, in fact. Far from being an unfocused story, swinging wildly at multiple genres for lack of real structure, it’s also incredibly concise and literate. There is so much that can be drawn from or discussed in the film - the apparently hollow nature of suburban life; the crushing sense of being trapped in one’s job or life; the meaning of beauty; the benefits of crime; the importance of conformity; the implications of sexual repression. These are classic themes and, to those that know his work, pure Alan Ball. The characters are also treated with great care, free from judgement or any crude lack of depth. One of the film’s great strengths is the courage it has to let the characters be alone. Seriously, have a look at just how often they are just left by themselves doing nothing, where they can let their mask slip away. It’s a less common practice than you might think.

Like Alan Ball, this was Sam Mendes’ first film. Already a very well-respected theatre director, he took great care in selecting the script for his debut. American Beauty was his selection and he directs it with a superb visual style and a great sense of meaning. Mendes was clearly very aware of the subtext of the piece, and brings them to life with ease. For example, just look at the first time we see Lester at work. Look at the drab surroundings, recognisable to all of those who have worked in an office. Then there’s a shot showing Lester reflected in his computer screen, where the columns of numbers seem to create an image of Lester behind bars. Then there’s the moments when he’s in Brad’s office, with Brad the supervisor appearing giant and powerful and Lester looking positively tiny in his chair. There is an absolutely superb level of dexterity going here and throughout. The sense of colour in the film is also excellent, where bland walls and furniture of greys and whites are punctured by small shards of red or blue or green, inviting you to notice the small glimpses of life in the lifeless world. Conrad L. Hall’s cinematography here is equally rich and solid.

I’m also a big fan of Thomas Newman’s music. He’s got a very distinctive sound, and always manages to capture a kind of soft ache, a longing wistfulness in his work. Here, his echoing piano, gentle woodwind and eerie strings beautifully capture the nuanced play of the characters and overall feel of the film. Just listening to it on its own is enough to lull you into an introspective mood.

Performances throughout are excellent. Kevin Spacey is on top form. His face is one that just exudes the kind of humour and sadness and disappointment that characterises Lester. The look on his face when he looks across the room at a party to his wife laughing wildly at a joke just encompasses everything he’s feeling about her, himself, this party, their life. He also has, and this is kind of important, a particular smile that creeps in at specific moments as Lester rediscovers his old self. Annette Bening is superb as Carolyn, who has invested so much of herself in an image that she finds it difficult to live up to and tries so hard not to let the cracks show. Her reaction to another day of an unsold house is both heart-rending and a little unnerving. There’s great support from elsewhere in the cast, too. Mena Suvari brings out every inch of the moderately Lolita-esque nature of Angela Hayes. She’s vampy and trampy, but she is so clearly still a child covering a supreme level of low self-esteem. Thora Birch and Wes Bentley give wonderfully understated performances as Jane Burnham and Ricky Fitts, respectively. Jane begins so placid, so used to being ignored, but slowly comes out of herself as the film goes on. Ricky is equally unassuming, but it’s an affect grounded in a great self-confidence. He knows how to handle himself, illustrated by his manner of dealing with authority, especially his father. Listen to the way he says what his dad wants him to say, firm and yet without conviction. He says it because he knows it’ll get his dad off his back. Speaking of Fitts Senior, Chris Cooper is a menacing presence in the role, an overbearing bully, tough and severe. His is a way of discipline, doled out by force if necessary. Allison Janney’s Barbara Fitts is perhaps the most saddening character of all. Someone so utterly strangled of life that she is a ghost in her own home. Janney is more familiar to many in more vibrant and outgoing roles (she is superb in The West Wing), so to see her smothered like this gives a real glimpse as to how worn down the character really is.

American Beauty actually reminds me a great deal of a poem by Elizabeth Bishop called Filling Station. It’s a wonderfully vivid description of an ordinary filling station that Bishop once happened upon. She describes the dirt and oil that marks it all, the rather dull visage it makes, the overall lacklustre effect of its initial impression… but then she notes the small details that stand out from it - an individual plant, a single doily, a small taboret, the specific arrangement of the oil cans. From these peculiarly delicate additions to the otherwise gruff and boring surroundings, Bishop notices the small graces that someone has put into the scene to make it more pleasant for others. It may be an ordinary and rather dreary place, but if you look closer, you’ll see the little glimpses of beauty and heart in it. This is exactly what rests at the heart of American Beauty. It’s not about simply looking into the American Dream and satirising it for its iniquity and spiritual malaise. It does see these things, but it goes that extra step and sees through even that to the flashes of life and colour and love that rest beneath that. Other films are content with showing the life of the suburban family as being secretly dark, ugly, or even crazy; American Beauty wants to show what lies beneath even that.

For all of its moments of tension, cynicism and frustrated anguish, American Beauty really is a gorgeous, gentle and rather uplifting film. It’s a wonderfully subtle blending of genres, both sad and funny, and carries itself with a superb artistry and elegance. It doesn’t shy itself from elements of bitter darkness and despair, but it ultimately rests with its firm and sincere belief that there is just too much beauty in the world to ignore.