Okay, here's the deal. I was over at the Carver Point Diner the other night, waxing trivial about all such matters with the regular crowd that shows up for Thursday night's Meatloaf and Cornbread special. We were heavy into a game of "name the episode," a game we founded during M&C night a year or so ago. Chef Merlene Clapsaddle will choose a TV show, and, all through dinner, we name off plotlines of episodes until somebody can't think of one. That person is then retired from the game, and the contest continues, until there's only one person left, or until the remaining contestants agree that there are no more episodes, at which time Merlene chooses another show. The winner gets dinner for free that night, and also gets a free lunch on Molten Lava Chili day, the second Tuesday of the month.
All apologies to the movie Reality Bites, where I first saw this game being played, but it makes M&C Thursdays a lot of fun. But, in all humility, I can safely say that I am one of the best players around. I have only lost twice in the past six months, once when Merlene chose "Hogan's Heroes" (and I still say that it was an unfair choice because there were only six basic episodes of "Hogan's Heroes," with the names changing every week....), and once when Merlene was out sick with the flu, and her husband Larry decided that "The Andy Griffith Show" would be the show for the night, and I could not remember any of the episodes with Howard Sprague in them. (And in my opinion, the color episodes don't really count.)
I admit it, folks, I'm a regular couch potato when it comes to old TV, right down to my tater tots. I love Nick at Night and TVLand. I know more about Gilligan and Lucy and Rob Petrie than I do members of my own family. Everything always seemed so much easier then. No problem could ever occur that couldn't be wrapped up in 24 minutes, regardless of the tragedy. A woodpecker keeps attacking Richie Petrie? 24 minutes. Lucy runs a fake raffle for money to go to Europe? 24 minutes. Gilligan has plastic explosives for fillings in his teeth? 24 minutes.
That's why I've been gearing up for the new movie by screenwriter and rookie director Gary Ross. It deals with old TV, and how people from today would get along in that gloriously naive world. You can't tell me any one of you out there hasn't had a quick little fantasy about swimming in the lagoon with Mary Ann, or cracking jokes about Mel Cooley's head with Buddy and Sally. You're lying to yourself if you've never wanted to hang out at Arnold's Drive-In, or sit on Sheriff Andy's porch one Sunday evening. Well, Ross puts the theory to the test in Pleasantville, and, well...how should I phrase this...if it's not the best movie to come out all year, it's dang well in the top three.
People in the '90s are devoted to "Pleasantville," a '50s TV sitcom that has a following much like the cults around Andy Griffith and Gilligan. People know every detail about the show, its characters, and its plotlines. Pleasantville is the idyllic world of the '50s, simplistic and clean, and everything was right there in black and white, both in theory and in spectral colors. Well, thanks to a wizardly old TV repairman (Don Knotts), Pleasantville gets all shook up when two kids form the '90s, David (Tobey Maguire) and his twin sister Jennifer (Reese Witherspoon), get zapped into the show by a mystical remote control.
David and Jennifer become "Bud" and "Mary Sue", children of Cleaver clones Mary (Joan Allen) and George (William H. Macy). Not only are David and Jennifer trapped in the show, though, they're also now just as black and white as the rest of this bland world. But, as the kids bring some tastes of freedom and creativity (and sex) into this world, a strange thing starts to happen. Not only are people learning how to broaden their thinking, they find out what's been missing in their lives, namely, passion. And, as their passions awaken, so does color. Reds and blues and greens begin to appear. No more shades of gray here. The world becomes colorful, and the people begin to have fleshtones and blushes and radiance. Too bad: the mayor of Pleasantville, Big Bob (the late great J.T. Walsh), likes his town just the way it was, though.
Writer/director Ross has long proven that he knows how to tell modern-day fables. His scripts for Big and Dave (one of the most underrated films of the '90s) are both wonderful stories told with degrees of both fire and velvet. They make their points, but they're never heavy-handed. In Pleasantville, he gets to stir the same pot with a bigger spoon. He has fun in much the same way The Truman Show did, tweaking the acknowledged "rules" of TV and its rabid fans. He also gets to satirize the perfection of those old TV World towns, like Mayberry and Springfield, where the basketball teams never miss a shot and the malt shop is heaven on earth. Nobody ever gets hit by a car, or has to go to the bathroom, or discuss things like sex (shhhhh....) Only when these "outsiders" from the future bring these notions in are they ever noticed as being missed.
He also gets some Grade A performances from his cast. Maguire and Witherspoon are wonderful as the kids. I found it humorous that Miss Reese is more of the catalyst to change than Maguire. She becomes the sexpot, all tight angora curves and hello sailor looks, having to sit her TV mom down and explain the "birds and the bees" to her, instead of the stereotype reversal. Maguire's David is the observer, the one who heads the passive revolution instead of the active revolt.
But, more important to this movie are the supporting players. Ross latched onto perfection when he brought in Joan Allen (Face/Off, Nixon) and William H. Macy (Fargo, Boogie Nights). I know I may sound like a broken record here, but Allen gets better and better with every part she plays. She has a beauty that almost defies description at times, and she can be as passionate or as plain as the role requires her to be. This works in her favor even more here, 'cause that essence is her character. Betty is a pretty, dutiful wife, whose passion and color bring her beauty and strength to the surface. And, when her passions begin to include feelings for Mr. Johnson (Jeff Daniels), the malt shop owner, she at once realizes that there's more to life than on-time dinners and doing housework in pearls. Macy gives yet another performance that solidifies his standing as one of America's best character actors. And, happily and sadly, J.T. Walsh gets his swan song as the "bad guy", full of bluster and boast. Watching him work here is both a pleasure and a heartwrencher, because it only serves as a reminder to his fans how much he'll be missed.
I could talk all day about the technical side of this movie, but I'll let you experience the fantastic blending of Technicolor and "glorious Black-and-White." I do, though, want to say something about an aspect of the movie that I found interesting on three levels, concerning this blend. Obviously, the "color" opening up in people and the world around them as they find their emotions works on a visual level. I also found it interesting that Ross worked this into what I assume is a statement about the raging racism that was present in the '50s. When the citizens of Pleasantville begin to awaken emotionally and gain their color, the black and white people refer to them as "coloreds." The black and white people shun the "coloreds" as being dangerous and subversive, a threat to the "normal" way of life. Sound familiar?
The third level, though, comes when Mayor Big Bob begins actively arguing the risks of gaining free will and leaving the safety of conformity. It's a funny notion considering that, in the '50s, Russia was evil conformity personified. Now, Russia has left the "evil of Communism and conformity" behind in favor of freedom and free will. I found it funny that a story set, in part, in the '50s, has people fighting to remain conformed to the society instead of preaching freedom and the "American Way." In a way, it's almost a reversal of everything people were screaming about in the '50s. Joseph McCarthy had everyone all worked up about Communism, the Cold War was in full freeze, and people were scared to death of the Iron Fist of Communism, where people conform and individual thought is dangerous. Here in Pleasantville, people are scared that their way of life is threatened because of color, because of individual thoughts and free will. Gary, my boy, whether you know it or not, you make a tidy little political point.
Now that I've said that, immediately forget it, at least for now. It's not a movie about political themes and all that crap. It's a movie about passion and color, and a movie about the innocence of the 1950's, and about the realities that we all have to deal with every day. And, it also happens to be a wonderful movie. The acting alone should make it a contender come February, Ross might be up for a couple, and the movie itself could make a run for the Big Kahuna.
Mayberry, move over. Springfield, lock your doors. Tell the Beaver and Eddie Haskell and Opie Taylor to take the week off. For now, "Bud" and "Mary Sue" and the rest of Pleasantville are holding all the keys to the city. Give yourselves a Halloween treat, and go see Pleasantville. And, if you see Potsie Webber around, tell him that I really got tired of him singing "Splish Splash" every time the band played. Learn a new song, for Pete's sake!
Image copyright New Line Cinema.
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