9/10/2010

I'm Still Here

Watching any celebrity's fall from grace is always entertaining. We can be honest about that, right? Hollywood is full of sad sack stories of momentary superstars who let the fame go to their heads, then proceeded to throw it all away in a blitz of sex, drugs, or outright stupidity. There are no shortage of films on the subject as well. When it's real, however, it's doubly fun. When Joaquin Phoenix announced out of the clear blue sky that he was quitting acting in order to make a misguided pursuit of a rap career, most people dismissed it as a publicity stunt. Adding fire to that idea comes brother-in-law Casey Affleck's insane documentary detailing Joaquin's lost year out of the spotlight. Whether or not it's real or Memorex is unclear and doesn't really matter, because it will still rank as one of the wildest rollercoaster rides I've been on all year. I don't care if what they're really doing is sticking one big cinematic middle finger square in our faces.

The film starts with an explanation. A convoluted mess, but an explanation nonetheless, of why Joaquin agreed to the documentary and of his decision in general. Basically it boils down to him wanting a chance to be himself. He's been, get this, "acting" all these years as a normal dude but not getting the chance to truly open up and do what he wants to do. Apparently what he wants to do is get pudgy, grow a beard that makes him look like a cracked out Papa Smurf, and make enemies of the people closest to him. He spends the majority of his time idling away in his home alongside his friends and assistants, all Yes Men in every sense of the term. He's unsettled, anxious, constantly nervous, and frankly a little disugsting to look at. He looks like he should have animated waves of stink over his head like Pig Pen.

What Joaquin(or JP as he's referred to) has been holding back all these years is the desire to be a rapper. Not a very good one, but a rapper nonetheless. He approaches the idea like a recently converted zealot. It's all about the art and the music. You either feel his style or you don't. He puts the art form on a pedestal, but few believe he's sincere. Why should they? The guy can't even take care of his personal hygiene, and his raps are a stream of murky consciousness. Watching him fiddle away with lame computer music making programs is sad, reminding me of every high school friend I ever had who downloaded a copy of Cool Beats in order to make themselves a hip hop superstar. The only thing more pathetic is the desperation with which he pleads for acceptance and recognition of his new career path is his insistence that he doesn't care what anybody else thinks. Phoenix spends half the movie whining about other actors, in particular a hilarious jealous rage over Reservation Road(a terrible film he starred in) getting snubbed by virtually everyone.

If only this could be described as one man's failed attempt at a career change. Instead it only made me wonder exactly what kind of brother-in-law Casey Affleck really is. If this is in fact a "real" film, then what was he doing while Phoenix snorts cocaine openly, or physically abuses his friends? This being Affleck's directorial debut he makes some odd choices. In particular, framing the film around two obviously staged sequences doesn't go a long way in convincing people that the rest of the story isn't an act. Earlier this year we were treated to the amazing Exit Through the Gift Shop, another documentary that blurs the reality line, but does it in a more effective way. At times it was clear that Phoenix and Affleck were having far too much fun making fun of themselves and laughing at us at the same time. By the time Edward James Olmos shows up out of nowhere to lend advice, and receiving nothing but an earful of awful Phoenix rap lyrics as thanks, it was obvious we were being played.

Taken at face value, I'm Still Here could be considered shameful exploitation of a man in desperate need of help. During one of Phoenix's lousy concerts, he stumbles to the floor like a bumbling town drunk. In another, he leaps into the crowd to fight a heckler. What had started out as comedy quickly turns into a pathetic cry for help. It's hard not to feel a little dirty chuckling at his many failures and personal troubles Yet, if it is indeed a Borat-style farce, Phoenix should be credited with one of the finest acting performances of his career. His transformation is complete and real, and totally captivating. It's like watching a car wreck in human form. The reactions from the people caught in his disastrous whirlwind are even more convincing, in particular Sean "Puffy" Combs who for the second time this year has stolen a film away from the star. Combs appears to be the ony one capable of telling Phoenix the blunt and honest truth. As someone who's looked upon Combs as the deathknell for hip-hop music over the last decade, it's odd seeing him in the role of hip-hop defender. He won't stand for even the hint that Phoenix is taking the rap industry like a joke. If he was acting then Combs needs a best supporting nomination. If he was being real then all those wack dudes sending him demo tapes might want to rethink meeting him in person.

Phoenix's last film was 2008's Two Lovers. A stirring romantic tale about a selfish loner who finds himself in love with two very different women at the same time. While not as good as Walk the Line(for which he was nominated for Best Actor), it had the potential to catapult him into romantic leading man status. After seeing I'm Still Here, even if it was a work of fiction, I have my doubts he'll ever be able to be considered anything more than an enigma.