Since Being John Malkovich debuted back in 1999, Charlie Kaufman has established himself as one of contemporary cinema’s most formidable figures. The screenwriter has cultivated a brand defined by slapstick and tragedy, bonded together through a surrealistic tone that emphasizes moodiness. Films like Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind took this concept to convey the fleeting moments of our lives, and Synecdoche, New York, the screenwriter’s directorial debut, went even further through its depiction of the emotional roller coaster of life itself. For many, Synecdoche was too hefty to digest, but I feel that like Jacque Tati’s Playtime will earn critical reappraisal in the future for its advanced craftsmanship and societal readings.
Anomalisa, Kaufman’s first major project since Synecdoche, feels more at home with some of the writer’s earlier works. The story, based on an audio play Kaufman wrote back in 2005, is more compact compared to Synecdoche’s largeness, focusing on Michael (David Thwlis), a depressed customer service expert deeply unsatisfied with his life and failing marriage. All the voices he hears, be they male or female, sound identical (voiced by Tom Noonan), revealing Michael’s disconnection with society. Yet Michael’s life is suddenly changed when he meets Lisa (Jennifer Jason Leigh), a meek young woman who stands out from the dullness of Michael’s world, as he marvels at her unique voice that is an outlier in his ubiquitous surroundings.
It’s perhaps now as good as a time as any to mention that Anomalisa is a stop-motion picture, featuring co-direction by Duke Johnson, who had previously worked on Community and Mary Shelley’s Frankenhole. This aspect of the film certainly advances its comedic elements through its animated action but it also accentuates the monotony of Michael’s world and his seclusion from the rest of society, creating a sense of claustrophobia that dwarfs even Kaufman’s past work. The staples of a Kaufman feature—failure, self-loathing, and loneliness—are on constant display, making Anomalisa feel as personal as Synecdoche, even though the former’s story spans a few days whereas the latter centers on a lifetime. Anomalisa’s most momentous sequence earns the distinction for having the most sexually graphic scene involving puppets since Team America, but whereas that film used the over-the-top realism for laughs, Anomalisa’s portrayal of intercourse connotes Kaufman’s concept of emotional depression.
Kaufman’s philosophical tragicoms are amongst the best of cinema in this young century and Anomalisa is yet another success by the writer, an insightful drama about the emotion of human nature. Simultaneously a humorous yet sorrow experience, Anomalisa is a stirring and cleverly innovative feature.
Editor’s Note: If I were to update my top 10 list of 2015, this would be amongst my choices for the three best of the year.
