Charlie Kaufman is notorious for challenging audiences with his brain-bending screenplays; now, the screenwriter's directorial debut, Synecdoche, NY, faces a challenge even getting to audiences.

The film concerns a playwright (Philip Seymour Hoffman) who uses a grant in order to stage a life-size re-enactment of his life within a massive hangar. Our own James Rocchi referred to the film as "a sprawling, messy work of inspired brilliance and real humanity, a film that enthralls and affects even as it infuriates and confounds"; Kim Voynar put it much more simply: "man, is that film two hours of mental-mindf*ck."

So, as might be the case with another lengthy high-profile Cannes premiere greeted by praise but no distribution, Kaufman is considering trimming the film down from its current 124-minute length to something a bit leaner ... which is saying something about a movie whose first cut, according to the Hollywood Reporter, ran just over four hours.

What say you, readers? Having seen the likes of Adaptation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, would you rather greet Synecdoche in all its full-bore glory, whether in theaters or on DVD, or would you be willing to settle for a tighter version?

[via Hollywood Elsewhere]

I'm home from the Cannes Film Festival now, after nearly two weeks of great movies, interesting interviews, and lots of conversation with many very smart film folks over dinner, drinks at the La Petit Majestic, or lingering cups of cafe au lait at cutesy cafes. This was my first year at Cannes, and I think it's now my second favorite film festival (I don't think any fest will ever take first place over Telluride in my little film-geek heart).

Your first time at Cannes can be overwhelming; there's much to learn and assimilate, and you have to do it pretty quickly. I had to get by on my shockingly limited knowledge of the French language, since I took German in high school (hey, I hung with the punk crowd, and we weren't going to take French with all the preppies). Fortunately, I had James Rocchi there to guide me and act as my interpreter; he jokes about his French being poor, but I assure you, he does quite well.

Early this morning, Charlie Kaufman's newest film, Synecdoche, NY, screened for press, and man, is that film two hours of mental-mindf*ck. I'm not the only critic here wishing the fest had screened this film last week; everyone is way too fried at this point to really sink their teeth into a film requiring this level of intellectual attention, and most of the folks I talked to after the screening felt they really need to see it at least once more to really wrap their minds around it.

Synecdoche: n. A figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole (as hand for sailor), the whole for a part (as the law for police officer), the specific for the general (as cutthroat for assassin), the general for the specific (as thief for pickpocket), or the material for the thing made from it (as steel for sword). -- American Heritage Dictionary

The directorial debut of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Adaptation), Synecdoche, New York is a sprawling, messy work of inspired brilliance and real humanity, a film that enthralls and affects even as it infuriates and confounds. Kaufman gives us parts, and the whole; he gives us the general and the specific. The plot is, on the surface, about a theater director, Caden (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), whose work, and life, in upstate New York have both fallen into a state of stasis relieved only by hints of slow decay. His marriage to Adele (Catherine Keener) is a qualified success: somewhat supportive, somewhat loving, somewhat successful, sustained in part by their daughter Olive (Sadie Goldstein). And just as Caden's life falls apart personally -- Adele, a painter, takes Olive to Berlin for a gallery showing and never comes back -- he also earns a "Genius" grant, and embarks on an ambitious, immersive theater piece that'll be his masterwork.

But that meat-and-potatoes synopsis does not, and can not, fully explain what Kaufman covers and examines and explores and offers in the film -- partially because of the fluidity of time and space and art and reality in the story, and partially because of how Kaufman wedges every frame full of set design, side notes, visual tricks, subtext, , deadpan jokes, prosthetic makeup, voice-over, post-modern inventions and old-fashioned melodrama. Synecdoche, New York veers away from reality fairly early in its journey; indeed, there's a question of if it even starts anywhere near there to begin with. Caden's obsessed with the decline of his physical body as he ages, poking at bumps, examining anomalies, concerned with disease.

New movies often bring anxious fidgeting and the buzz of excitement. But a new movie by Charlie Kaufman, one that he not only wrote, but helmed, brings the anxious, hopeful mania of a kid about to see Mickey Mouse. At least, it does for me. I like Human Nature, but I love Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Now we're getting his directorial debut with Synecdoche, New York, a film that seems like it should be set in Schenectady rather than the Big Apple, and have huge replicas of Proctors and Rotterdam Square Mall rather than Manhattan skyscrapers, but will probably be awesome anyway. Almost a year after we saw the first poster, Anne Thompson has posted what looks to be the first image of Catherine Keener and Philip Seymour Hoffman, which you can see cropped on the right. It doesn't show much, and isn't nearly as fun as this puppy, which shot up on Slashfilm earlier this year, but it just makes this whole film all the more real.

No matter what casting announcements or vague posters pop up, there is nothing like seeing that this is actually a real film that will get to us soon, with all of its magnifying glass glory. If only I could get to Cannes to see it! Obviously, I'm a big fan, but how about you? Are you as anxious as I am for Mr. Kaufman's directorial debut?

I was out carousing around my fave blogs today, looking for something interesting to write about (hey, it's a slow news day) when I came across this post over on Mike Jones's The Circuit blog on Variety about a guy trapped in an elevator for 41 hours.

The New Yorker website has a time-lapse video up of this poor dude who went for a smoke break and then got stuck in the damn elevator. The video is kind of harrowing if you, like me, are prone to claustrophobia and already have an irrational fear of elevators. A commenter on The Circuit noted that the video is better than most of the shorts he'd juried recently for fests, which got me thinking ...

Putting together last week's list of my favorite screenplays of the 2000's was relatively easy. I came up with about ten worthy candidates and narrowed from there. When I started putting together this week's list -- my favorite screenplays of the 1990's -- things got a lot more complicated. I had a much larger list of worthy candidates to choose from. It made me realize that a) the 90's, particularly the late 90's, was a genuinely incredible time for film, and b) I was going to have to split my list into two halves: 1995 -- 1999 and 1990 -- 1994.

So, in support of all the great screenwriters currently on strike, what follows is my favorite screenplays produced between 1995 and 1999. Read that last sentence carefully! If you've got movies you'd add to or subtract from my list, I would love to hear them, but make sure your choice fits the criteria. On my 2000's list, I was getting comments like "How DARE you not include Citizen Kane, you freaking idiot?"

Now then, with all apologies to the scripts it killed me to leave off (Office Space, A Simple Plan, As Good As it Gets, Chasing Amy, Lone Star, Three Kings, Swingers, Jackie Brown, Kingpin, I could go on and on), here is my alphabetical list:

In honor of the striking screenwriters, I wanted to write a list of my favorites, either contemporary or all-time. But I decided that it would be more respectful to not exclude any of them. Even the bad writers need recognition right now. I've tried writing screenplays, and I salute anyone who has had one produced, whether brilliant or not. Even if it weren't difficult to actually write a script, it's certainly tough to deal with the b.s. of Hollywood and the sad truth that your vision will likely not make it to the screen as devised. So, instead of concentrating on real writers, I figured I'd look at screenwriter characters, specifically those portraying the hardships of the job.

"Joe Gillis" from Sunset Blvd. (1950, Billy Wilder).

I imagine there's nothing scarier for a struggling screenwriter than the thought of ending up like poor Joe Gillis (William Holden). The opening shot of Wilder's classic shows the character floating face down in a swimming pool, and immediately he's labeled "an unsuccessful screenwriter." This sets up a hopelessness for the character, and for writers in general, as the film then flashes back to one of the greatest stories of Hollywood cynicism ever made. Gillis not only represents the difficulty of making it as a screenwriter, he also shares some juicy lines about how writers aren't recognized enough by the public ("Audiences don't know somebody sits down and writes a picture; they think the actors make it up as they go along."); about drastic alterations to his scripts ("The last one I wrote was about Okies in the dust bowl. You'd never know because when it reached the screen, the whole thing played on a torpedo boat.") and about the desperation that turns good writers into seemingly hack writers (replying to talk of his once promising talent, he says, "That was last year. This year I'm trying to make a living."). There were screenwriter characters before him, and plenty after, but Gillis will forever be the quintessential example.

Well, it's official. The Writers Guild of America is going on strike tomorrow. Here's hoping the strike ends quickly and that all parties come away happy. And writers? Use this time off to study my choices for the seven best screenplays of the 2000's:

The 40 Year Old Virgin by Judd Apatow & Steve Carell

The blending of improvisation and the written word gives Apatow's two classic comedies -- Knocked Up would be the other -- a feeling of authenticity that is all too rare in today's film world. Apatow takes the strategy of writing for specific performers and their strengths, and it really pays off. Scoff if you want at a sex comedy making the list, but for a movie to be this incredibly funny -- while keeping an oddly touching romance and a spot-on character study afloat -- the screenwriters deserve high praise.

About Schmidt by Alexander Payne & Jim Taylor

One of the saddest comedies ever made, and one of the most truthful and painful portraits of old age. Payne and Taylor specialize in scripts about people on the verge of cracking, depressed souls who tend to find the smallest redemption possible. Payne/Taylor characters never go from Point A to Point B over the course of the screenplay, they go from Point A to Point A.1. The small, gradual changes in their characters are reflective of the way actual humans (as opposed to movie humans) work. Warren Schmidt's personal growth is so minor that it is confined to the last thirty seconds of the film, but when it comes it's an emotional punch in the gut.

Hope Davis has had a pretty remarkably consistent career considering the amount of work she's done, giving understated performances in a variety of great films. I loved her in two recent little-seen gems: The Matador and The Weather Man, and especially in American Splendor and About Schmidt -- which is one of my favorite films. She's got two movies due out this year: John August's The Nines, which I told you a bit about here, and Charlie Bartlett, a comedy with Robert Downey, Jr, due out August 3rd. Today brings more word on two upcoming projects for Davis. First, she has joined Synecdoche, New York, screenwriter extraordinaire Charlie Kaufman's directorial debut. Philip Seymour Hoffman will star and Davis joins an excellent (and very pale!) female supporting cast that includes Samantha Morton, Catherine Keener, Michelle Williams, and Tilda Swinton. Hoffman will play "a theater director in crisis over work and the women in his life," Davis will play his therapist. Synecdoche begins shooting this month.

After that project wraps, Davis will move on to Genova, a new film from Michael Winterbottom, director of the great Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story and 24 Hour Party People. Winterbottom also directed Angelina Jolie in A Mighty Heart, out this summer -- check out James' Cannes review of that film here. Monika told you about Davis' addition to the Genova cast last week. That film is a ghost story said to have mystery and horror elements. It tells the story of "a British man who moves with his two American daughters to Italy as he tries to recover from his wife's death." Davis will star alongside Colin Firth, Willa Holland of The OC and Perla Haney-Jardine of Spider-Man 3. Catherine Keener is in that one as well -- maybe she and Davis can share a cab from New York to Italy after the Kaufman film wraps.