Okay, here's the deal. There are strange things afoot, folks. I never thought I'd see it, but Hollywood is learning to be political without being preachy. Can it be the dawning of a new era that marks the death of the "message movie"? Is it possible that we don't have to sit through two hours of Stiffin' Seagal movies to find out that the environment is threatened by oil companies? Are we safe to assume that Oliver Stoned won't come up with some all-day exposé of a flick about how Mother Teresa was actually assassinated by diabolical terrorists who want to help the downtrodden in India for their own treacherous reasons?
I came to this revelation the other night, as I sat through In and Out. To the best of my knowledge, it is finally A-OK to be homosexual in a movie. A character can be gay without being a freaky serial killer, or a swishing stereotype, or worst of all, a crusading loner. I guess we can thank The Birdcage for making homosexuality a "mainstream" topic. It took a few potshots at the stereotypes, but it made the point that a gay couple can be as functional, if not more so, than a straight couple. I still can't believe that more of a stink wasn't raised by the conservative battalions about the fact that The Birdcage's suggested that a gay couple can be good parents for a child. (Hard to argue with $200 million at the box office?)
And then, lo and behold, a romantic comedy had the audacity to have a gay character that was actually that: a character in a movie that happened to be gay, nothing more. Rupert Everett was a major player in My Best Friend's Wedding, and though his character turned left on Main, he was likable, admirable, and a blast to watch on screen. Gasp!
I'm happy to announce, folks, that In & Out takes the dirt road cut by Birdcage and My Best Friend's... and paves the heck out of it. It's funny, it's smart, and pokes satirical jabs at everything from Hollywood itself to small-town gossip. And, Kevin Kline manages the impossible: he plays this thing for laughs instead of for politics, and by doing so, he may just push himself into the Best Actor Oscar race.
It seems that Howard Brackett (Kline), a popular high-school English teacher in Greenleaf, Indiana, is tying the knot with long-time girlfriend Emily (Joan Cusack). They're getting hitched at the end of the week, and everyone is very excited about it, especially Howard's mom (Debbie Reynolds). Moreover, one of Howard's former students, Cameron Drake, is up for an Academy Award for Best Actor. The entire town is pumped.
During his acceptance speech, Cameron thanks Howard, and everybody in town hits a 99 on the happy scale. But when Cameron adds, "...and he's gay!" for the whole world to hear, everyone in Greenleaf, including Howard and his fiancé, holler, "WHHHAAAATTT?!?!?!?"
Well, the entire tabloid world descends on Greenleaf to meet Cameron Drake's inspiration. "I'm not gay!" Howard shouts to the press, his parents, his students, his fiancé. Yet one openly gay reporter, Peter Malloy, played by Tom Selleck, wants Howard to drop the facade and be the new "Ellen," a spokesperson for gay folks everywhere. But Howard's not gay. Or is he? Even Howard isn't quite sure anymore. He meets a few of the "qualifications", like being thin and neat, and enjoying dancing, and being single for too many years.
I refuse to go any further to avoid spoilage. Suffice it to say that this is an oft-told tale of a man learning about himself through adversity. The kicker, of course, is the twist on sexual identity, based loosely on the real-life story of Tom Hanks' accidental "outing" of his acting teacher during the 1994 Oscars. The flick uses a lot of witty tricks to stay afloat, but the wind in its sails is supplied with perfection by Kevin Kline. The man is an acting gem, a guy who knows his way around a comedy, and despite winning portrayals in Dave and French Kiss, he hasn't looked this good since A Fish Called Wanda, when he won the Supporting Oscar. He shows his wares from every side -- some slapstick, some timing, some line delivery. He also musters some of the funniest nonverbal reactions ever glued to film.
I wish I could shake hands with director Frank Oz and writer Paul Rudnick for keeping this thing as apolitical as they could. Rather, they turned the tables and made this a very suave, casual, situational comedy. Rudnick, in particular, has tried this before, with his unappreciated comedy Jeffery. In Jeffrey he wrote a fantastic classical romantic comedy, full of style and wit. It also happened to be about homosexuality and AIDS. And these taboos kept Jeffrey from ever making it to wide release, and it limped up to the box office and fell. And Frank Oz has walked the same path from a different angle. He loves throwing low blows at "tradition," and he relishes mocking the small-town sensibility, a wonderful anytime target for satire.
Here, the two combine their best efforts, and it shows through and through. Frank's tilted candy-coating and Rudnick's sharpened wit make for a great movie. Tom Selleck plays against every type he's ever played before, finally turning in a movie performance worth watching. The icing on the cake is Joan Cusack, who just may be the guardian angel of every movie she makes. With In & Out, she's at the top of her craft, playing the confused Emily, who's range of emotion dances from hurt to mad to sad to stunned and back again.
Even the minor roles are filled with winning performances. Matt Dillon plays Cameron Drake like he used to play himself, as over-the-top and self-important as possible. Wilford Brimley and Debbie Reynolds make Howard's parents, folks that want to understand, but just can't quite believe what's going on. And a humongous "WELCOME BACK!" goes out to Bob Newhart, one of the most hysterical human beings to ever take a breath. His small role as Howard's principal is a vintage Newhart, a wholly-formed masterpiece of timing, stuttering, and struggling with words.
I can't quite call it perfect, as much as I'd like to. Our formidable filmmakers dipped way into the unnecessary with the final scene, mixing a tart sermon into an otherwise sweet mix. More Joan Cusack would've been great, who pops up every now and then as if the editor forgot about her scenes and then hastily cut 'em back in. And, finally, I thought the lads with the lenses would've taken a few more chances. The opportunity to do this sort of movie with a major studio backing you up doesn't come along everyday. Push that envelope when you can. Instead, Oz backed off a tad stylistically, and it was a minor letdown.
Quick! Before any political idiots or action groups wake up and decide to make signs, or get on Larry King and pontificate, get yourself to the theater and see In and Out. You'll laugh yourself silly, and you just may learn something about acceptance. But more importantly, you'll contribute to the death of the "message movie." And that's a cause we can all go accept.
Copyrighted image courtesy of Paramount Pictures.
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in for observation