Hurleyburly

With Sean Penn, Kevin Spacey, Robin Wright Penn, Chazz Palminteri, Garry Shandling, Anna Paquin, Meg Ryan
Directed by Anthony Drazan
Written by David Rabe
by Scott Hefflon

Decadent. Depraved. Violent. Drug-filled. Booze-saturated. Quasi-philosophical. Hopeless. Amazing for a movie that rarely leaves the living room.

A friend of mine said the trend in movies for over-the-top action and special effects will turn ’round to movies based on dialogue which takes place over dinner. He has a framed Breakfast at Tiffany’s poster while I have curling Fear & Loathing, A Clockwork Orange, and The Replacement Killer posters snagged from the local video store at which I’m a five-minutes-before closing regular. And perhaps in the long run, he’s right, but the shift is not likely to take place any time soon.

The power words above are misleading, as I myself discovered not far into the movie. Described as the wild, sex’n’drug lifestyle of rich, amoral movie guys (who never seem to work) living in a posh Hollywood condo, the “action” taking place is usually the interaction of the joint-smoking, line-sniffing, drink-guzzling “friends.” Eddie (Mr. Penn) is a cokehead searching for answers and definition in a violence-wracked world (the news really, really gets to him and he asks, “How am I supposed to feel about this?”), Mickey (Spacey) is his aloof, sarcastic (“Flippant,” he assures us) roommate on leave from the wife’n’kids upon whom none of the events seem to leave any mark, and Phil (Palminteri) is a brooding, often violent, melodramatic out-of-work actor friend (who has the ability to turn every conversation into the defining moment in their friendship). Secondary characters include Darlene (Mrs. Penn) a director of some sort who’s ravishing, but not especially interesting except in her flirting with Mickey and the fact that Eddie thinks he might be in love with her (not when she’s around and they’re either fucking or fighting, but when she’s not and he can cry and shout and throw a desperate tantrum in patented Penn style), Artie (Shandling) who’s basically just a third party to the party, lacking morality and subtly encouraging whatever degrading action is afoot, the unnamed, underage drifter (Paquin) who Artie delivers as a “care package” to the fellas, one who’ll take a roll in the sheets on command, passes no judgment on any of the actions, and yet (rather predictably, not that that’s a bad thing) turns out to have the clearest head of them all, and the stripper, Bonnie (Ryan), who leaves her six-year old at home to fuck, suck, smoke, drink, and snort pretty much anything available (and yet she has pride in there somewhere). So if nothing else, Hurlyburly has great roles played by great actors doing practically nothing but talking and arguing (“Clarifying,” Mickey might amend), with the occasional drive in the car.

Here’s the inevitable something-meets-something comparison: Imagine the bored decadence and substance abuse of Less Than Zero mixed with the apathy and loathsome loserdom of Kids yet involving powerful and overly-intellectual characters whose words speak louder than their actions like Whit Stillman’s The Last Days of Disco, Barcelona, and Metropolitan. Eddie is searching for a connection to reality (a pretty common thing for a thoughtful cokehead when you get down to it), and most of the other characters are just trying to get by with the messy world they’ve immersed themselves in. One brilliant aspect of the script (I guess from the original play which was also captured in the screenplay and portrayed by the director – usually the filtering process losses such magic) is the pace and the cause and effect of drug-addled reaction. While many reviewers have mentioned the intriguing dialogue lobs (dialobs?), few credit them to the reality of drugs, desperation, vanity, and the very Hollywood vulture tendency of picking at weakness as a means of survival. Friends lash out at each other with little provocation, friends laugh in each other’s faces or turn their backs (perhaps simply turning a deaf ear and refusing to say the one simple sentence any friend knows the other needs to hear) – welcome to the wonderful world of self-preservation. Survival of the fittest involves keeping in shape by mentally beating up anyone in your path. Stay sharp by stabbing your friends where you know it hurts, chuckle playfully, then dodge the return thrust. It’s a dance.

Perhaps the most powerful moment comes as Bonnie, the balloon stripper, is introduced. Try not to be horrified. Try not to recall the most perverse, degrading, mean-spirited act you’ve ever egged on. Try not to see their fight for composure as your own.

And that scene is simply story-telling. In the living room. Among friends. There’s no car chase or bullets flying. Just words. And that’s what makes Hurlyburly such an amazing movie. I had to keep hitting pause to walk into the kitchen under the pretense of getting a glass of water. Not since the opening scene in Saving Private Ryan have I had to pause and walk around for a while before taking another helping/beating. Private Ryan used action. Hurlyburly uses words.