AMERICAN BEAUTY is a baby boomer coming of age story--but with a difference. The story concerns Lester Burnham, who declares in the opening voice-over that he is 42 and has a year to live. At first the device seemed confusing, almost pushing me away from Lester. But later I appreciated its significance. Knowledge of the protagonist's imminent demise not only frames the story and makes his mid life crisis all the more poignant, it also prepares the audience for a death which might otherwise have shocked and alienated the audience.
During the course of the film we become very involved with Lester and his strange yet ordinary life. Lester, it seems, has spent his life acquiring all the traditional things that make an American life beautiful. He lives in a lovely middleclass home, with his stunning, if aging wife, and their teenage daughter. All the trappings are there. His wife grows picture perfect roses, drives her yuppy Mercedes 4x4 and cooks nutritious meals. And his daughter is a high school cheerleader.
But you don't have to look too closely to see that Lester's life exists around him, he takes no part. Indeed, his senses are so dulled by that which others describe as beauty, that it takes some pretty intense shaking to wake him up. But awaken he does, with a little help from two of his daughter's friends, who lure him from his stupor and set him on a course of action that is unforseeable and unforgetable.
Kevin Spacey shines as the angst-ridden Lester Burnham, in a spell-binding role that will not doubt gain him some attention at Oscar time. And Annette Bening is perfect as the wife we're supposed to hate. I also enjoyed Chris Cooper as Colonel Fits, whose enigmatic penultimate scene typifies the ambiguity of the film.
On one level, American Beauty is a captivating film that draws you in, preaches at you for an hour or two, then sends you out empowered by the cathartic experience to re-evaluate your life and hug your child. But it's also a playful film that dabbles with beauty itself. Director Sam Mendes tosses in a few cinematic moments that seem designed to be admired, which only heighten Alan Ball's compelling story. Ball, by the way, is an FSU grad, who obviously has a firm grasp of the woes of coming of age, especially middle age.
American Beauty is indeed a beauty. Playful, sinister, and sincere, the film is a call-to-arms that I whole-heartedly recommend.