An Accidental Review:
Whit Stillman and a Friday Night

On Friday nights I usually make it to the video store by five or six. See things are kind of slow right now so I have been watching a lot of movies. Its not that I am a dork. Just a little antisocial. Anyway, I have seen (or so I thought) just about everything I would want to. I was digging through the cult section hoping to discover that perfect find. Something a little romantic, humorous, thoughtful. A twist on your basic chic flick I suppose. Well I came across a film titled Metropolitan. It had a big orange sticker that read Managers Pick. I read the back.

Then I read the managers notes. Seriously, the manager had notes covering the entire front cover of this film. He (I am foolishly assuming it is a he) called it a sleeper. I did not want to watch something that would put me to sleep. But I guess that is not what he meant by sleeper. I checked it out. Brought it home. Put it in the VCR.

It was good. It is good. About a group of rich twenty-somethings. In the eighties. The film unfolds slowly and methodically. The scene breaks are distinctive and the message is clear. I thought I would watch something else by the director (Whit Stillman) and see what else he had to say.

It is Friday night again, so I go to the video store. "Do you know the name of the other film this director (point to film here) made?" He responded with arrogance. The kind I use when people ask me obvious questions at work. Anyway, he told me it is part of a trilogy. The first being Metropolitan, then Barcelona, then The Last Days of Disco. I took them home. Checked them out. They followed the formula of the first one. The formula of life I suppose.

You see, in Metropolitan the kids are dating, looking for love. They have big ideas about the world. But really all they do is sit around and talk. Slowly you (well, me) get pulled into their world of youth and dreams. You understand what they are thinking and truly want them to be happy. Or something like that. Well, the film is ambivalent. It doesn’t give you all the answers. It doesn’t tie everything up with a bow. You can do that if you want. Or not.

The second film (Barcelona) takes you to Spain. Obviously Americans in Spain are going to seem dumb, young and foolish. American. Not only that, but it is still the eighties. The main two boys (mid twenties) are looking for love, or lust (whichever comes first.) They talk big. They have theories. They have ideas. It doesn’t matter if they are right. The movie is filmed in the same manner, with distinct black outs between scenes, and an unsetting ambivalence that leaves you wanting more but knowing the filmmaker has given you everything he had to share.

The third, The Last Days of Disco, has the most current feeling to it. It is still the eighties (seriously) and the main characters are again in their twenties. But probably because the movie was filmed in 1998 (compared to 1990 and 1994), it just feels more modern. The main characters are searching for love, having fun at night, and working during the day. They talk as if they know everything. And they know they don’t. Whether or not they find it is for you to discover (you have to watch the movie!)

Actors intertwine between the films as different characters and personalities. There are hints at their other characters. But it takes a bit of adjustment to see them as new people. The films are simply a metaphor for life. Threefold. A metaphor you have to watch to discover for yourself. And one that only makes sense if you are willing to think outside the script (so to speak.) The journey in each film is similar and different. They do not realize their struggles are universal. Or funny. Or ridiculous at times. Just as we do not see that in our own lives. Separation enables reflection. That is what the film does. That is also what age does (I hope.)