Look at the Size of that Coil!
Running with Scissors / Dustin Rowles
This generation has three, and only three, seminal memoirs: A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, A Million Little Pieces, and Running with Scissors. This is an incontrovertible fact.* With AHWoSG, Eggers introduced the whimsical exploration/exploitation of personal tragedy through the use of post-ironic, anti-ironic irony. In A Million Little Pieces, James Frey basically told Eggers to fuck off, arguing through his own memoir (and in interviews) that personal misfortune should be faced head on with brutal, spare language and absolutely no sense of humor. In an anti-post-ironic twist, Frey was later exposed as a fraud, liar, killer of kittens, and a Communist, and his stark approach was thus discredited along with his fabricated narrative.
Augusten Burroughs, however, created a brilliant memoir that had little to do with prose (his was not remarkable) or stylistic flourishes (which he dispensed with completely). Indeed, Running with Scissors had little to do with the earth-shattering use of language, and a lot to do with striking the right tone, which is where Burroughs’ genius lie. Few memoirists, I’d argue, could have deftly strung together as many bizarre and misfortunately outlandish incidents as did Burroughs in Running With Scissors, all the while maintaining an astonishingly good sense of humor. Reading about a 12-year-old boy semi-voluntarily submitting to an increasingly painful blowjob from a 34-year-old pedophile could be stomach-wrenching and/or incredibly sad in the hands of a lesser author. But, as Burroughs tells it, it’s downright hilarious, even if there is a certain amount of discomfort associated with the laughter the experience elicits.
And that’s the problem with Running with Scissors, the feature film. The characters, the unheard-of idiosyncrasies, and the holy-shit-that-didn’t-just-happen! events from the memoir are still there, but Burroughs’ tone didn’t quite make the cut. Moreover, his matter-of-fact voice is gone, as is the dry, anti-pitiable first-person perspective. In their place is a film that describes setting and character and draws on period-appropriate props and a big, expensive cast, but it’s not really about Augusten Burroughs anymore. And that’s a goddamn shame.
Running with Scissors is an account of the life of Augusten Burroughs (Joseph Cross), mostly between the ages of 12 and 15, starting when his mother, Deidre (Annette Bening) and alcoholic father, Norman (Alec Baldwin) separate, driven apart by a crackpot shrink, Dr. Finch (Brian Cox). Deidre is a Pulitzer-Prize-winning poet in her own mind, but her mental instability is exacerbated by Dr. Finch’s brand of psychotherapy — which entails affirming and encouraging her delusions of grandeur — and his indiscriminate need to medicate her narcissism. In other words, he gets rid of a nasty hangnail by chopping off an entire arm.
While Deirdre is either institutionalized or sexually placated by several of Finch’s lesbian patients, Augusten is left with the doctor and his eccentric (bloody fucking insane) family. It is in Finch’s house that Burroughs more or less discovers he’s gay, but Finch’s family — a weird collection of way off-kilter 1970s lost souls — mistake adolescence for adulthood and think nothing of the fact that Augusten is fellating Finch’s psychotic 34-year-old adopted son (Joseph Fiennes); in fact, they encourage it. Despite an environment of absolute lunacy, however, Augusten manages to remain mostly above the fray and, at least in the book version of Scissors, find the humor inherent in his plight.
But Ryan Murphy (“Nip/Tuck”), who adapted and directed Scissors, apparently didn’t read the same book the rest of us did. Burroughs’ memoir was funny and at times touching, but it never sought anyone’s pity. If you wept while reading it, it was because you were laughing too hard to breathe otherwise. But Murphy must have misread it, because his adaptation not only bastardizes the spirit of the memoir, it deeply disrespects it.
I’ll grant the movie this, however. The soundtrack is good and Annette Bening is her usual phenomenal self, creating in Deirdre a vulnerable, Valium-addled Norma Desmond crossed with Sylvia Plath. She was everything I envisioned in that character: self-obsessed, overpowering, raging, deluded, controlling, slightly schizophrenic, and completely fucking irredeemable. Bening successfully conceives a character whose attempts to educe pity create a layered reaction full of both resentment and sympathy. You want to hate her, but — if you can see past the neglect — there’s something both dignified and admirable in her self-absorption, especially given the gender politics of the era.
But everything else in Running with Scissors is a complete and utter failure. Dr. Finch, at one point in the film, suggests that the best therapy is getting your anger out and, that being the case, I won’t hold back. First of all, the setting was suffocating; imagine Wes Anderson’s obsessive attention to detail in Life Aquatic transferred first to a middle-class suburban house absolutely soaked in garish 70’s prints and later to a ramshackle pink mansion in the outskirts of Northampton. In the decrepit mansion, dishes weren’t just messy, they were meticulously messy. Every speck of dust, every disheveled blanket, and each bit of squalor seemed to be painstakingly rendered in such a way as to take as much attention away from the narrative as possible.
That distraction almost seemed purposeful, a way to distract the audience from Murphy’s inability to recreate the essence of the book. Indeed, instead of dealing with the psychic damage inflicted upon Burroughs with irreverence, as the memoir managed so effortlessly, Murphy seeks to extract every last motherfucking bit of pathos out of Burroughs’ story. His version of Scissors is a freaking Meryl Streep movie, a Beaches-inspired hack job that wills you to weep with fucking Hamburger Helper and an “epiphanic” destruction of a kitchen ceiling to the tune of Al Stewart’s “Year of the Cat.” I mean, c’mon man! A roomful of whack jobs scrutinizing a bowel movement for signs from God is hilarious. But Murphy doesn’t really allow that humor to linger, opting instead to see the Finches as pathetic and Augusten as above it all and headed for something else. That may have been true, but in his writing he was never rueful or condescending about it.
Aside from the unnecessary attention to detail, the relative absence of force in the major character, and the muddled translation, Running with Scissors is also kind of dull, filled too often with stillness instead of the crackly fluidity of the memoir. Deirdre’s criticism of another poet’s work, in fact, offers a suitable summation of the film as a whole: “It implodes into nothingness. I was bored.”
Same here, sister. Same here.
Dustin Rowles is the publisher of Pajiba. He is currently halfway through a three-year ‘sentence’ in upstate, NY, where he lives with his wife. You may email him, or leave a comment below.
Catch a Fire | | Pajiba Love 10/27/06 |
Comments
* This is not a fact.
Posted by: Dustin Rowles at October 28, 2006 1:11 AM
Damn. I wanted other reviewers to be wrong. I hoped that this was going to be a funny fucked up movie--like the book. Damn damn damn. Oh well there's always Happy Feet. That has potential.
Posted by: anikitty at October 28, 2006 10:09 AM
Damn, and I wanted so much for this movie to be good.
Oh well. I think I'll just check out the book.
Posted by: Natalie at October 28, 2006 10:28 AM
I just bought the book yesterday. I guess I'll skip the movie.
Posted by: Jane at October 28, 2006 10:45 AM
Well, after the other reviews I sought your expertise. Very sad. I had high hopes.
Posted by: Kyle at October 28, 2006 12:10 PM
"* This is not a fact."
Tee-hee. I couldn't have put "Heartbreaking Work...." aside more quickly. Detested it.
Posted by: Samantha T at October 28, 2006 12:11 PM
anikitty, you took the words right outta my keyboard. I was SO hoping Dustin would post the review and dismiss all those other reviews, declaring RWS an instant classic.
Bummer.
Posted by: Maryscott O'Connor at October 28, 2006 2:17 PM
I'll still probably see it, even though it sounds like the movie doesn't come close to living up to the book's greatness.
Posted by: Sarah at October 28, 2006 4:27 PM
Well crap. I had such high hopes for this one. To echo MaryScott, bummer.
Posted by: Becca at October 28, 2006 6:11 PM
Well.... maybe there is hope for an adaptation of Burrough's BEST book -- Dry --. Anyone concur?
Disappointing though -- with SUCH great material (loved the book) how could they eff it up so miserably?
Posted by: Michelle at October 28, 2006 8:30 PM
I agree with your review completely. After the movie ended I turned to my friend and said 'well, it's definitely not one I need to own on dvd.' And that sucks, cause it should be. Why couldn't Ryan Murphy take the fun and Humor of his own Nip/Tuck and apply it to Augusten Burrough's already painfully funny memoir? The world may never know.
Posted by: Tauwan at October 28, 2006 10:59 PM
this movie was flippant when seriousness was required and way too muthafucking serious when flippancy was required. I turned to my husband at one point and said, "this movie doesn't know what it wants to be."
I'll reread the book.
Posted by: Theresa at October 29, 2006 12:01 AM
I agree with the review and comments completely. We went to see this because my husband liked the book, and I like Annette Bening, so how bad could it be? Well, quite, actually. Theresa nails it precisely, and the result is something of a mess. The film tries so hard to evoke the 70's and yet fails utterly to do so, somehow. The outrageous costumes are wearing the actors, not vice-versa. (In constrast with "The Ice Storm", say, which captured the subtler aspects of that odd era remarkably well.) Now I feel I must read the book, to imagine how this could possibly work on screen. But for me, the greatest memoirist of the generation is David Sedaris.
Posted by: Vivian Girl at October 29, 2006 10:23 AM
I'm a sucker for memoirs. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genuis bored the ass off me after the first 150 pages and I never finished it. A Million Little Pieces raised red flags for me even before it came out that he had greatly fabricated lots of it. The dentistry part alone had me shaking my head. I know that's not done.
And though not technically memoirs, I've laughed myself incontinent over David Sedaris' books.
But Burroughs? Somehow he has passed me by. And now I feel compelled to read his stuff. But thanks to this review, not to see the movie, despite the fact that I'm a great fan of Bening's. Maybe I'll just wait to rent it.
Posted by: Kathy at October 29, 2006 1:14 PM
Vivian--SO true about "The Ice Storm." So true. I just watched it again the other night and was struck by how well they captured the 70s. Not just in set design, but in the little details and the FEEL of that era. It really felt like I was back there again (only I was a child, and not a teen as the younger characters were).
The water bed, the younger Carver brother looking through the "eye" of the GI Joe action figure, the way the kids could just ride their bikes anywhere, the 16 year old was allowed to take a train into NY on his own, etc.
But it wasn't ALL about the 70s. There was a lot that was universal in The Ice Storm. And did anyone catch the quiet hints at Native American history in the film or was I just reading too much into it?
(Sorry to get off onto another film!)
Posted by: Kathy at October 29, 2006 1:18 PM
i did have high hopes for this...the book is really something else to sink your teeth (eyes) into, and it's a damn shame the film was so terrible. but really, knowing that the book was such a pleasure, i knew they had to fuck up the movie...
Posted by: razh at October 29, 2006 2:05 PM
p.s. i love the title's reference dustin! just make sure to dry it outside, it must be preserved!
Posted by: razh at October 29, 2006 2:06 PM
how depressing. when do you think they'll start adapting david sedaris books? that would be killer.
Posted by: giraffe at October 29, 2006 4:14 PM
giraffe-I think that there was a David Sedaris movie in the works, but he called it off because he didn't want to expose his family any more than they were in his books.
Posted by: anikitty at October 29, 2006 5:51 PM
"And though not technically memoirs, I've laughed myself incontinent over David Sedaris' books."
That's such an interesting point - Sedaris writes about his past without making you feel as if you're reading a memoir that takes itself incredibly seriously. I read Sedaris for the first time a few years ago and couldn't believe I'd been without him for so long. Boyfriend is hysterical.
Posted by: Samantha T at October 30, 2006 10:47 AM
As a recovering addict/alcoholic myself, I find it funny that Frey got into such trouble. The first thing a recovering addict does upon finally getting it together and quitting is to blow his drug history all out of proportion. It makes one's caving in and quitting seem more romantic, like some sort of glorious flame-out instead of the pathetic downward spiral it really was.
So, in a way, his novel being mostly nonsense was kind of a snapshot into the mind of a newly recovered addict.Totally self-important and largely full of shit.
Posted by: imk at October 30, 2006 10:58 AM
It is okay to be a fan of both Dave Eggers and Augusten Burroughs, right?
Because I really like "Heartbreaking Work..." (though "They Shall Know our Velocity" is my fav, it's not a memoir so not applicable here) and "Running with Scissors".
Also, though I laughed aloud, embarrasingly in public places, while reading this book. I still fail to see any humor in the "blow-job", aka rape, scene. No matter how hard I try (and I don't) I can't laugh at a 34-year old man forcing himself on a 12-year old. I don't care how grown up or wise beyond his years he seems.
Posted by: Nicole at October 30, 2006 12:30 PM
I have basically inhaled the four Burroughs memoirs over the last month, and loved them all in different ways. I got to see this film a couple of weekends ago, when it opened in NYC. I was pretty bummed about the movie, but I didn't hate it. It was, to me, 'meh' on its own, but really really bad when compared to the amazing subject material. Read the books. See the movie (if you must) as a matinee to save a few bucks.
Posted by: Lollygagger at October 30, 2006 2:44 PM
"giraffe-I think that there was a David Sedaris movie in the works, but he called it off because he didn't want to expose his family any more than they were in his books."
While this is probably accurate, I'm from Raleigh and have met "The Rooster" on many occasions, and I choose to believe that there is no movie because there is no actor that could portray him. He's a singular individual.
Posted by: MG at October 30, 2006 5:13 PM
Kathy, getting off onto another film sounds like a good idea, considering the way Dustin felt about this one. And "The Ice Storm" is such a well-made film. That scene with the Nixon mask will haunt me forever. I must go off to Amazon right now and buy myself a copy.
Posted by: rocky at October 31, 2006 5:04 AM
Ugh. Loved everything he has written and am really really sad to read this review. Damn it, I should know better than to have premeditated expectations.
Posted by: Maria at October 31, 2006 9:52 AM
"laughed myself incontinent" HILARIOUS!!! I too, have succumbed to the Sedaris enuresis. He, like Burroughs, never apologizes for finding humor in horrific circumstances, nor shies away from detailing that horror so that it is never minimized or justified - The humor is clearly a tool used by the teller to cope with the situation (I don't agree that the fellatio scene isn't funny- I also agree that it is in fact a rape scene, but that is just what makes Burroughs so brilliant). And this is from someone who used to investigate child abuse cases for prosecutors. So my tolerance threshold for child-abuse-related material is extremely fine-edged.
Posted by: gobigred at October 31, 2006 4:09 PM
...that being said, I had serious doubts about how this particular book could EVER be translated into a visual medium from the get-go, so I am not surprised to hear of the movie's suckitude.
Posted by: go big red at October 31, 2006 4:11 PM
I blame Gwyneth Paltrow. Whatever she touches is bound to be a painfully self-aware, clumsy, and pretentious piece of crap. She should never have been given another chance after Duets. And yes, Shakespeare in Love was a big ball of suck.
Posted by: Paltrow Fan at November 1, 2006 9:03 AM
Hey, I'm nearly finished with the book and I'm loving it! It only makes the film suck more in comparison, unfortunately. The portrayal of Hope and Natalie was particularly poor. In the book they are both pretty cool, interesting characters. And not to get off again on "The Ice Storm," but the one scene that totally evoked my childhood (b. 1970) was the one where Elijah Wood and his younger brother are serving at their parent's dinner party. The adults are COMPLETELY IGNORING THEM and talking about "Deep Throat." THAT was The Seventies. I used to bartender at my parent's freaky parties when I was 7,8 years old. I think you could get arrested for that nowadays.
Posted by: VIv at November 1, 2006 11:06 AM
The book has been on my must-read list for a couple of years and I was looking forward to the movie, I think I will skip it and move the book to the top of my list instead.
And as for Heartbreaking Work . . . I love memoirs and rarely give up on completing a book but this one could not hold my attention. Glad to see others agree.
Posted by: al at November 1, 2006 12:11 PM
I liked sections of eggers' memoir enough to have finished it, and I thought James Frey's book was really bad, but the scandal that ensued was interesting. I heard somewhere that Oprah promoted it because Jennifer Aniston owned the rights to the movie.... if you know what i'm saying. Can anyone elaborate on that?
Too bad about this movie sucking, I was looking forward to seeing it but that's ok. Although I enjoyed the book I wasn't dying to see it made into a movie until the cast and costumes seemed to bulk up to Royal Tennenbaum proportions. Anyway, thanks Dustin, it's always cool to hear it from you, and to find that I agree with so many people who keep up with the site. To everyone reading this, you guys are awesome.
Posted by: adk at November 1, 2006 11:07 PM
Thanks for the review - like so many, I adore this book. I was trying to explain to someone recently how it was very funny, but not funny. You put it so succinctly. Thanks to all of you for letting me know not to be too excited about the movie - I really am not surprised, the reviews made it look too much like a comedy.
Posted by: i heart lasagne at November 3, 2006 10:39 PM
Hmm.. Can't imagine it being worse than Factotum though. Gonna have to check it out. I haven't read the book, from all I've heard about RWS- I got the feeling it would hit a little close to home too much. Think I could relate to this guy so it'd be more than entertainment value. Probably relate a little too much, thus forming a deep obsession, leading to me stalking him, and attempt my (not so fine) art of seduction. Then I'd have a restraining order and be the butt of all tabloid trash jokes..for a week.
Hmp...sounds like high school all over...best years of your life, no?
I'm hoping seeing the movie b4 reading the book will make for a better (therefore not dissapointing) experience. Then it can be confirmed whether the director sucks or not. Maybe. Shall see we, meaning me.
DR u rock my world btw.
Posted by: longtime lurker (female) at November 4, 2006 8:33 PM
I haven't read the book, but if its tone is anything like what people here claim, the movie really did fail. The theater I was in only had a few people in it and wasn't really in this movie's kind of neighborhood, but there were only a couple spots where anybody laughed and I didn't feel like I was suppressing any laughter of my own. Many things that seemed like they could have been amusing were rendered crushingly depressing by poor musical and maybe editing choices. That's a damn shame. I can see the humor, and I fucking loved the first season and change of Nip/Tuck. I walked out of this movie before it ended. That wasn't some grand gesture, and it was almost entirely because I had to get moving to be somewhere else, but I've only walked out of a movie before it ended twice, and the other time was because my mom was deeply offended by Dragnet and pulled me and my friend out of it. The fact that I could bring myself to violate my moviegoing code by walking out tells you how little I felt about it.
Posted by: Eep at November 6, 2006 12:03 AM
Quick addendum...
I can't BELIEVE that Murphy couldn't pull this off. I mean, the man made me laugh my ass off at painfully awkward married sex, and at a man trading a girlfriend for a car, among many other things that should be uncomfortable and/or offensive. This should have been a layup.
Posted by: Eep at November 6, 2006 12:10 AM
I'm in the minority, but I think the movie was actually pretty decent. Being a big Burroughs fan (I've read all of his books and and RWS is in my top 10 of all time), I wasn't sure what anyone could do to make a good movie out of this. I mean, no one has ever really made a really good movie out of a really good book, have they? So I was expecting the worst, and it turned out to be a pleasant surprise. I asked my husband, who didn't read the book, what he thought and he liked the movie, but obviously had a lot of sympathy for Burroughs. And I have to say that the best actor in the film was Jill Clayburgh. Seeing the emotion in her eyes was worth the price of admission.
Posted by: suzy at November 6, 2006 12:33 AM
