The cinema
exerts so powerful and personal an effect on the senses and the spirit that
viewers often feel an intense emotional connection with particular movies,
especially from their own pasts, far exceeding their reactions to other kinds
of art and perhaps even to life itself. In part because of the sheer physical
act of sitting in the dark watching a light flickering hypnotically on a giant
screen, displaying people and actions exaggerated far beyond normality in size
and emphasis, film imprints itself on the psyche and thus the memory in a
special way. Frequently, as a result, we recall not only certain specific
movies, but ourselves watching those movies.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย We not only regard a particular film
with nostalgia, but also recollect a lost context that may include youthful
excitement, childhood itself, the shared experience of a public art, even the
familiar erotically charged atmosphere of courtship, darkness, and propinquity.
When a whiff of stale popcorn from the concession counter, say, opens the
Proustian floodgates, we may then remember both a past time and a previous
self. No wonder so many people bemoan the fact that the films of today differ
so drastically from those of yesterday. It’s not only that movies have changed,
the viewer has changed.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Of course “they don’t make movies
like they used to,” as the common complaint goes. But we are not what we used
to be, either, thanks to time, the subtle thief of youth, and the fact that
life tends to improve in retrospect. For those who mourn the loss of their own
and the industry’s past, however, a movie like Alex & Emma recollects a lost Hollywood, perhaps even a lost innocence. It looks very like
an updating of motion pictures from the Golden Age of American film, just the
sort of flick that now and then turns up late at night on one of the movie
channels.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Like so
many light romantic comedies of the past, the movie employs a simple,
essentially static plot to explore some familiar territory and show off its
female star, Kate Hudson. Hudson plays Emma, a stenographer — remember them
in the old movies? — hired by Alex (Luke Wilson), a blocked writer who must
dictate a new novel in a month. The deadline has been imposed by two Cuban loan
sharks, not out of any great concern for literature, but so that he can earn
enough from his publisher to pay off his gambling debts. If he cannot, they
cheerfully promise, they will kill him.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย As soon as the script establishes
its situation, the audience, especially those who made their bones watching
scores of comedies starring smart, attractive couples like Spencer Tracy and
Katherine Hepburn or William Powell and Myrna Loy or Barbara Stanwyck and Jimmy
Stewart, can predict exactly how matters will turn out. To begin with, after
some flip dialogue — with the staccato clatter of some 1930s movie —
articulates the initial antagonism between the two, their cooperative work on
the project eventually generates a current of electricity, and the two young
people fall in love.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Aside from the absolute
artificiality of a completely incredible premise, the picture turns pleasantly
on another familiar ploy, the movie that illustrates the creation of the
narrative itself. As Alex dictates his novel, itself a bit of light romantic
nonsense set in the 1920s, the work comes to life, with the writer himself
playing the protagonist of the fiction he composes and Hudson taking on a
series of roles as the young woman with whom, after overcoming a few comic
obstacles, he will fall in love. Together they write and rewrite, changing the
characters, the dialogue, and the action as they come to know each other,
directing a movie within the movie that takes place in their imaginations and
in front of all of us.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The act of writing, unlike painting
or sculpture or composing music, is extraordinarily uninteresting to watch —
ask any writer — and therefore rarely allows an opportunity for exciting
cinema, which necessitates the sort of dramatization that animates Alex
& Emma. To see Alex’s novel come to life and display the authorial
changes, deletions, and revisions not only creates some appeal in the act but
also metaphorically mirrors the developing relationship between the two main
characters. Both the framing story and Alex’s (and Emma’s) novel provide a
measure of charm to this light romantic fluff.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Obviously intended as a vehicle for
Kate Hudson, Alex and Emma displays the young woman in a number of
roles, as she plays not only herself, but also the maid of the household where
Alex’s fictional protagonist works as a tutor. The constant revisions allow her
to keep changing her hairstyle and color, her accent, her manner, and so forth,
all in the service of a lighthearted plot. Nobody could possibly take Alex
& Emma seriously, but it should please those members of the audience
who complain that they don’t make movies like they used to. In fact, they do.
Alex
& Emma,
starring Kate Hudson, Luke Wilson, Sophie Marceau, David Paymer, Rob Reiner,
Francois Giroday, Lobo Sebastian, Chino XL; written by Jeremy Leven; directed
by Rob Reiner. Cinemark Tinseltown; Loews Webster; Pittsford Plaza Cinema;
Regal Culver Ridge; Regal Eastview; Regal Henrietta.
You can hear George and his movie reviews on WXXI-FM 91.5
Fridays at 7:15 a.m., rerun on Saturdays at 11:15 a.m.
This article appears in Jul 2-8, 2003.
