synecdoche
Sunday, 01 August 2010 22:45
“I know how to do the play now. It will all take place over the course of one day. And that day will be the day before you died. That day was the happiest day of my life. Then I'll be able to live it forever” (Caden Cotard)
The human existence revolves around a unity of understanding; a symbiotic recognition of love and hatred. Irrefutably we humans will endure similar – if not exact – situations during our lifetime. We will all share each other’s moments; of course it’s unspoken rather than literal, but not for Caden Cotard – the anxiously lost protagonist in Charlie Kaufman’s debut directorial headfuck Synecdoche, New York. In an epic bid to recover and re-establish his life, theatre director Caden - played by perv-perfect-pro Philip Seymour Hoffman - plans to create the most honest, most grandiose piece of theatre to date: a performance of his own life.
Evidently this isn’t an easy ‘popcorn movie’ as it were; one with an introduction, a crisis and then the hoped for resolution. Instead what we’re offered is a film against the boundaries of time, against the formulation of film, and more importantly against the expectation of the spectator. Kaufman has indeed crafted a piece of film that’s shone new meaning onto his declaration that theatre is alive and movies are dead. The more times you watch Synecdoche, New York then the more you will take from it – this film isn’t set in stone; there’ll always be blood pumping through it.
The film’s true meaning will never be definitively singular either, due to the fact that there are multiple explorations intricately weaved into the film’s core; perhaps a representation of Kaufman himself? Why should it be so easy to define anyway? As aforementioned Kaufman aimed to defy film formulation and expectation. A personal belief of mine though is that Synecdoche, New York – whilst awash with multiple meanings – is a story loosely based on Friedrich Nietzsche’s notion of Eternal Return.
Nietzsche commented on the idea of Eternal Return – a cyclical timeline for all, where one would have to relive his life over and over again – as “horrifying and paralyzing”, and believed it to be the heaviest burden any human can behold. In The Gay Science Nietzsche expands on this overwhelming idea:
“What, if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: 'This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more' ... Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: 'You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.”
Having the option to relive your life is most definitely a confusing and daunting prospect to say the least. Could you go through ‘those times’ once more? See the pain, see the joy, and see it all without being able to change a thing? This is exactly what Caden decides to do in the form of a play, he opts to relive his life but through the help of other people – the actors. In theory as a theatre director he has the ability to change parts of his life he chooses to portray, but he chooses not to. His aim for an honest performance stops him from changing a thing – he will have to endure it exactly as he lived it.
There is a scene where Millicent Weems (impeccably played by Diane Wiest) auditions for a role in the play. In conversation with Caden, she deadpans “You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone”. Suggesting that everyone is everyone - thus everyone’s experiences are alike - begs the question to who this so called ‘demon’ is – the one that Nietzsche says will inform you to relive your life again. Well in theory if it’s Caden, then it’s also multiple people (if we are to presume everyone is everyone). STAY WITH ME...
As the director Caden is separate from the action of the play, an outsider to the art. For him to truly relive his life he must be apart of the play. He therefore opens auditions for the part of himself. This is when we are introduced to Sammy. After stating that he hasn’t a resume as he isn’t an actor, he goes onto explain hauntingly,”I've been... I've been following you for twenty years. See, I knew about this audition because I follow you. And I've learned everything about you by following you. So hire me. And you'll see who you truly are”
At this point Sammy incidentally takes on the role of the demon by taking on the role of Caden. He is the person who allows Caden to become apart of the play, thus allowing him to relive his life properly. This strengthens Nietzsche’s point furthermore, with Sammy being the part of Caden who “answered him (to Caden): 'You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine” when offered the role. Caden’s role as the theatre director, the creator of this play, the demon who gave himself the chance to relive his life is certified in the scene where a funeral is being re-enacted. The Minister suggests that “you only get one chance to play it out (life)...And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create”. Caden evidently creates his own fate: the play:
It gets shit confusing from here on if you are to believe everyone is everyone, especially when Millicent Weems takes over Caden’s role as director, and Caden takes over Millicent’s former role of Ellen, Adele’s cleaning lady. In the same way with Sammy, Millicent becomes the ‘demon’ when she takes over Caden’s role. With Millicent now playing Caden (the demon), she has the ability to change his life, and she does. Her direction differs from what his direction was, and she controls Caden’s (now Ellen) life until he ‘dies’. Having the ability to change his life makes Millicent what Caden longed to be – ever the more ironic then that Caden is said to have smelt like he’s menstruating when back from cleaning Adele’s flat, and later on when he admits that he would have been better as a woman. Yet whilst Millicent as the director was able to change Caden’s life, Caden himself wasn’t. The end of the film is bleak and lonely; nothing has changed for Caden, not even from swapping roles.
Are we to believe that Caden died during the final scene then? Eternal Return is all about the notion of reoccurrence and recompletion. It’s the intricate details that help strengthen the relationship between Synecdoche, New York and Nietzsche’s idea. The film's opening shows Caden waking up at 7:45am, the exact time that is chalked on the wall in the final scene. This bleak Groundhog Day-esque detail is the glooming answer that all is to happen again. The film is a headfuck because it isn’t a linear structure-abiding piece, but a cyclical presentation set out to confuse and confound. I’m not sure whether it’s my head or my feet that hurt now.
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