Sleeping beauty
Waking Life is a dream of a movie
BY STEVE VINEBERG
Waking Life. Written and directed by Richard Linklater. With Wiley Wiggins, Richard
Linklater, Kim Krizan, Ethan Hawke, Julie Delpy, Steven Soderbergh, Steven
Prince, Adam Goldberg, and Timothy (Speed) Levitch. A Fox Searchlight Pictures
release. At the Avon.
It's virtually impossible to reproduce with any exactness the experience of
seeing this animated film from Richard Linklater because the episodes tend to
drift in and out of your brain, along with the buoyant, phantasmagoric images.
What remains is the feeling of the movie -- a strange mixture of the whimsical,
the cerebral, and the melancholy -- and its free-form, sea-swept visual style.
Linklater shot the actors in high-definition digital video with handheld
camcorders. Then the animator, Bob Sabiston, and his team took over. The last
step was "painting" over the animated frames via Sabiston's pioneering computer
program, providing a wash of color that ebbs and flows across the screen.
Directing a production of a Tennessee Williams play once, I asked a costume
designer to suggest the wavering glimpses of color in Monet and Turner
paintings, and he came up with the brilliant idea of painting the women's gowns
so the light picked up layers of color in mysterious, peek-a-boo swirls. That's
what Waking Life looks like. Everything on the screen is permanently
afloat.
The college-age protagonist of the film (voiced by Wiley Wiggins) hitches a
ride in a car that looks like a boat; when he's dropped off, he finds a note on
the street that warns him, "Look to your right," and another car bears down on
him before he can scamper out of the way. With this odd series of events
Linklater drops his hero down a metaphorical rabbit hole. He awakens apparently
unharmed, but he's locked in a dream he can't escape from, no matter how many
times he opens his eyes and believes he's beginning a new waking day. Like
Alice in Wonderland, he comes in contact with a succession of characters who
discourse freely with him, as if they'd been doing so for years. Their
conversation is taken off the supermarket shelves of philosophical ideas, both
classical and popular, with the same topics resurfacing over and over:
identity, communication, free will. A lecturer insists that existentialism is
the philosophy of exuberance, not despair, because it enables us to create the
path of our own lives. A young man explains that the role of the media is to
put us at ease with the essential chaos of the world; then, apparently in
protest against this glossing over of the truth, he immolates himself. A young
woman talks about the impossibility of communication because words are so
inadequate to express the feelings behind them, but she adds that the small,
temporary connections we make amid all these grand failures are what we live
for. As she speaks, the words that emerge from her mouth take on, briefly and
magically, the shape of the ideas they're meant to suggest.
This enchanting movie seems without precedent or comparison. But it made me
think of both Chris Marker's great 1983 Sans Soleil, a whirligig of
images and reflections on the workings of memory, and James Toback's 1990
The Big Bang, a documentary in which he brings together a cross-section
of highly articulate people of different ages and from different walks of life
and encourages them to talk about God and sex and anything else that happens to
come up. The inspiration for the notion of a man who can't wake up is clearly
the stories of Jorge Luis Borges, especially "The Circular Ruins," where the
narrator dreams a man, more and more each night -- and when he's done, he
realizes that he himself is another man's dream. But the style of Waking
Life is as far from Marker's or Toback's or Borges's as their styles are
from one other. And the tone -- playful yet plaintive -- is distinctive to
Linklater. You might recognize it from his 1995 Before Sunrise, the best
romantic comedy of the last decade, in which Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy star
as an American and a Parisienne who meet en route to Vienna, spend 36 impulsive
hours together, and fall in love. (Hawke and Delpy both show up in Waking
Life, voicing cartoon figures who are marvelous caricatures of them.
Linklater himself and wife Kim Krizan -- his co-writer on Before Sunrise
-- are also among the vocal cast.) This filmmaker often strikes out, but
when he hits, he's capable of miracles.
Issue Date: November 2 - 8, 2001
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