Beaks here...

It's nice to see the critical consensus... if not turning around on Charlie Kaufman's SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK, then at least balancing out. Some people are confounded by it, others unmoved, but there is a very vocal camp out there claiming that Kaufman has delivered something very close to a masterpiece. I know Moriarty really liked it (though he's not one using the "m" word); I also know he interviewed Mr. Kaufman. Can't wait to read that.

Mostly, I just can't wait to finally see the movie, which impressed this anonymous reader...

When a writer becomes a director, any number of outcomes are possible. In some cases, you'll get a John Huston or a Billy Wilder, directors who started as in-demand writers and eventually became exalted in both categories. More often, however, you'll have writers who come to the job thinking strictly in narrative terms and failing to develop that vital visual flair. As such, their projects emerge as interesting but immature works.

Charlie Kaufman has proven his mettle as a visionary writer many times before, but he addresses his scripts as what they are: blueprints to be utilized in a visual sense. The subjects and styles he's dabbled in (surrealism especially) seem tailor made for visual storytelling. However, the reigns have always been in the hands of capable music video directors like Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry. That he's made his first film as director is an event of potential celebration or disappointment.

Oh, well. It should at least be interesting.

And it is. I'd go so far as to say it's very good. In fact, by the end I found myself falling in love with the vision and the uncompromising nature with which it's conveyed. Kaufman has never been this ambitious or inventive before. Synecdoche, New York begins like many modern comic-dramas and soon devolves into a hellish combination of 8 1/2, Zerkalo, and Inland Empire, thus purging itself of any chance at boxoffice success. Yet, though the critics may scratch their heads over this, and the public stands little chance of understanding its virtues, I feel this may be Kaufman's masterpiece, if not his best paced film.

Synecdoche begins ordinarily enough. The first act keeps things relatively believable, with its protagonist, playwright Caden Cotard (played by the always superb Philip Seymour Hoffman), in a dead-end marriage and an artistic life gone unappreciated by his family. Everyone loves his new play except for his wife, who leaves him with their daughter to go to Germany. Strangely, Cotard begins to suffer from a variety of diseases and maladys after the nozzle of a faucet breaks and slams into his brain, creating a permanent bump. From this point on, we watch Cotard seem to enter a dream world in which time marches on and his troubles with women ranging from his ex-wife to his daughter to his many lovers forever torture him.

Thus, he decides to funnel his frustrations into a strange project: A life-sized scale model of New York City in which hundreds of actors play out an everlasting script. This part of the story grows ever more confusing as Cotard hires actors to play himself and his lover. When the actor hired to played Cotard starts courting his real-life lover, it becomes quite clear that attempting to understand this film in literal terms is impossible.

Let it be perfectly understood that, even by Charlie Kaufman standards, this film is decidedly avante-garde in its storytelling approach. We've no way of knowing the film isn't a dream, or if it's half-dream ala Mulholland Drive or 8 1/2. Part of what makes this film so admirable is its dedication to this surrealistic world, even going so far as having Cotard see himself and his family in adds in magazines and on television without the usually inevitable clarification of the hallucinatory nature of these visions.

What most concerned me was whether Kaufman could make the jump to directing, but he rises to the occasion. In fact, he has a real chance of matching or surpassing Jonze and Gondry before him. He may lack the economy or pacing of those directors, but his visuals are remarkably poetic and abstract, and he knows how to combine scenes to create an earie tone throughout the picture.

All the same, responses from others have mixed. It's easy to see why. Synecdoche, New York will not be liked by everyone, especially those uninterested in these sorts of experimental works. However, those people should not dismiss the film upon first viewing, as Kaufman has powerful things to say about human misery. One can take this work as pessimistic or as an objective study of the toll of wallowing in self pity. The film is uncompromisingly tuned into this character's way of thinking, which emits a Kafka-esque sense of despair. Whether the protagonist truly lives such a horrid life or merely dreams it is up to the audience, but we nevertheless can learn from his mistakes. Kaufman and Hoffman have crafted a character that is simultaneously pathetically neurotic and heartbreakingly sympathetic, dealing with fears we ourselves must contemplate; death not being the least of them.

Whether or not you ultimately enjoy what Kaufman's offered, I wholeheartedly recommend that audiences at least experience what Charlie Kaufman has composed. It's certainly entered my very short list of must-see films from this largely underwhelming year. Even if he hasn't perfected his directing style, Kaufman has displayed serious talent in the field, and I commend him for it. Commendations should go to every aspect of this film, for it's one of those mighty experimental achievements so rarely seen in cinema. That alone is worth the price of admission.