The Giant Mechanical Man

So I watched a movie tonight with a friend of mine.  It's a funny system we have worked out, she being still in Utah, me being here in Virginia.  We both get on Netflix, click play at the same time, then pop out the Gchat box and stick it in the corner of the screen.  That way we get to both watch the movie and keep up a running commentary of whatever we want, whether it's peanut gallery, praise for the movie, insights, etc.  It works remarkably well.  The movie tonight was called The Giant Mechanical Man.

Starring the lovely Jenna Fischer, Chris Messina, and the dude from That 70's Show who nobody likes. No, not Ashton Kutcher.

I had never heard of this movie and did not know what to expect.  Emily forewarned me that she had watched it earlier today and had been quite taken by it, and specifically directed me to not ruin it for her if it turned out that I found it ridiculous.  I will admit that when the main guy started painting his face and started looking clownish, I got a little worried because I've always been a little creeped out by street performers/mimes/human statues.  I don't know... just not my type of entertainment, I guess.  But the movie is not really about the guy's face paint, or even really about the street performing.

No, mostly it's about people of my generation feeling lost, helpless, powerless, out of place, and empty.  This movie identified with me without even trying hard.  Chris Messina plays Tim, the street performer who gets lectured that he needs to go out and get a real job, and he ends up landing a job as a custodian at the zoo; Jenna Fischer plays Janice, a girl who gets fired for her pointless temp job not because she's unreliable, but because she is a nice person without being "personable", doesn't have "charisma" and can't help looking like she doesn't want to be there.  She is soon evicted and moves in temporarily with her sister and her husband (I can only assume they're married, of course).  Soon after she is driven by desperation to get a job at the same zoo, being told that she's "clearly overqualified" but can work concessions.  I have been there.  Not like I've ever been evicted or fired, but I was a janitor at the football and basketball stadium (as messy as a zoo), I have worked the mindless, idiotic temp jobs that eat your soul, I am currently working a temp job that I know is not stable work, and I'm currently living with family.  Somehow this film tapped into many currents swirling around in my life-- I easily related to these big issues of trying to find work, trying to find a place to live, and just an overall searching that is ongoing, exhaustive, and exhausting.

Of course, the movie delves into more aspects of everyday life than just just the big picture stuff.  The conversations between Tim and Janice are so delightfully ordinary.  It is the dialogue of your everyday conversations.  They are constantly not quite hearing each other and repeating themselves, and awkwardness abounds.  Yet they forgive each other of that awkwardness so readily, doing it almost unconsciously, because they see in each other someone who they know they like, who they know is the same type of person.  This movie paints life as it is.  As my friend Emily put it, "I feel like that is what life is more often than not-- awkwardly talking at the wrong times, and not knowing what to say, and silence."

But it's the awkwardness that comes from wanting to say the right thing to the right person.  Like any well-crafted film, this movie provides a good foil for Tim's character in the truly terribly character played well (a little too well) by Topher Grace, and I think he shows us the difference in awkwardness coming from sincerity vs. affectation.  He's this sleazy self-help author whose book ostensibly helps you become an expert conversationalist.  Most of his conversation tactics center around always having something to say, filling up the silences.  But his awful conversation proves that merely filling up the silence with words won't cure the awkwardness.  In his case, it just makes it worse.

Well, I think I've just about filled up enough blog silence for one night.  I didn't really do justice to the feelings this movie made me feel.  But I do feel like if you watch the movie, it will communicate some of the issues and dilemmas facing our generation of alienated twenty/thirty-somethings who are struggling to feel strong, confident, and fulfilled.  I think the best line from the movie talks about what it really takes to find your way in life, and I'll sum up with that: "It only takes one person, just one person, to make you feel special, and valid, and like you belong in the world."  

01/27/13 addition-  Read Emily's excellent review here.