The Squid and the Whale

Two movies starring Laura Linney turned out to be the most memorable of all my summer procrastinations. What are the odds of that?

In You Can Count on Me she plays the neurotic, sex-starved trauma case--with charm, she has charm--opposite Mark Ruffalo's introspective hurt parade. The result is moving as hell, with a better gay-title-turned-triumph even than Rachel Getting Married, if you can believe it. See that one. It really is too good to miss, even if it does feature Matthew Broderick and Macaulay Culkin's kid brother.

The Squid and the Whale--another titular what-the-fuck?--shows us Jeff Daniels as an academic twit, Jesse Eisenberg upgraded to indie geek 2.0, some other kid who's great but not worth learning his real name--let's just call him "St. Vitus Dance" for reasons I'll disclose below--and Linney as a curious, hieroglyphic character impossible to decipher but delicious to misread, a woman who's submerged her considerable talent and individuality under the ever-expanding ego of her poseur husband. For all but the final few minutes, the film constricts you snakelike as the family continuously collapses under its own emotional weight, only to release you naked and free at film's end into the emptiness of no family, no memory, no body. The concluding shot of the older son standing in front of the squid and whale exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History, finally confronting the dissipated splendor of his literal-but-allegorical, all too personal past, is unforgettable, an image of the mind realizing in one terrifying second all it has ever wanted but which it feared into fraud and exhaustion. That's it. Then the movie ends.

Also, Owen Kline's character wants to be a tennis pro, not a star like McEnroe or Connors, he insists (the movie takes place in 1986 in Brooklyn), but rather like his burnout club instructor, played to perfection by a seedy William Baldwin, fresh from the set of Quest for Fire, apparently. Said kid masturbates frequently and deposits his semen on library books (his dad is a literature professor), reconstructs women from their discarded underwear (his mom is chronically absent), and worships Vitas Gerulaitis but receives only posters of Ilie Nastase.

On the far right, shirtless, stands Gerulaitis, who in 1979, after suffering sixteen straight losses to his countryman, finally defeated Jimmy Connors, noting defiantly, "nobody beats Vitas Gerulaitis seventeen times in a row."

Twenty-nine years later, preparing for an interview following his stunning upset of Roger Federer at the Miami Masters, Andy Roddick, always the brave imitator, took great care to plagiarize that bit of history. Natural history.

The movie is magnificent.

Slothrop: Of course Koko is right about everything, the smart-ass gorilla. Though he's quite clever in merely implying, but never stating outright, that the reason he finds this film truly magnificent is because there's a shot of the young masturbator looking at himself in the mirror, with "Vitas" written on his arm in pen. I can just imagine Koko doing heavy grunting to that particular mise-en-scéne.

But also what does it mean when a movie makes you want to listen to Pink Floyd's The Wall urgently?

Plus remember Koko when I played you that long Lou Reed song in the car, with the Boss cameo at the very end? That was the song to which the movie concludes, and perfectly so:

A) Waltzing Matilda

Waltzing Matilda whipped out her wallet
The sexy boy smiled in dismay
She took out four twenties 'cause she liked round figures
Everybody's queen for a day
Oh, babe, I'm on fire and you know I admire your -
- body why don't we slip away
Although I'm sure you're certain, it's a rarity me flirtin'
Sha-la-la-la, this way

Oh, sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
Hey, baby, come on, let's slip away

Luscious and gorgeous, oh what a humpin' muscle
Call out the national guard
She creamed in her jeans as he picked up her knees
From off of the formica topped bar
And cascading slowly, he lifted her wholly
And boldly out of this world
And despite people's derision
Proved to be more than diversion
Sha-la-la-la, later on

And then sha-la-la-la-la, he entered her slowly
And showed her where he was coming from
And then sha-la-la-la-la, he made love to her gently
It was like she'd never ever come
And then sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
When the sun rose and he made to leave
You know, sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
Neither one regretted a thing


B) Street Hassle

Hey, that cunt's not breathing
I think she's had too much
Of something or other, hey, man, you know what I mean?
I don't mean to scare you
But you're the one who came here
And you're the one who's gotta take her when you leave
I'm not being smart
Or trying to be cold on my part
And I'm not gonna wear my heart on my sleeve
But you know people get all emotional
And sometimes, man, they just don't act rational you know,
They think they're just on TV

Sha-la-la-la, man
Why don't you just slip her away

You know, I'm glad that we met man
It really was nice talking
And I really wish that there was a little more time to speak
But you know it could be a hassle
Trying to explain this all to a police officer
About how it was that your old lady got herself stiffed
And it's not like we could help
But there wasn't nothing no one could do
And if there was, man, you know I would have been the first
But when someone turns that blue
Well, it's a universal truth
And then you just know that bitch will never fuck again
By the way, that's really some bad shit
That you came to our place with
But you ought to be more careful around the little girls
It's either the best or it's the worst
And since I don't have to choose
I guess I won't and I know this ain't no way to treat a guest
But why don't you grab your old lady by the feet
And just lay her out in the darkest street
And by morning, she's just another hit and run.
You know, some people got no choice
And they can never find a voice
To talk with that they can even call their own
So the first thing that they see
That allows them the right to be
Why they follow it, you know, it's called bad luck.


C) Slipaway

Well hey(man), that's just a lie,
It's a lie she tells her friends.
'cause the real song, the real song
Where she won't even admit to herself
The beatin' in her heart.
It's a song lots of people know.
It's a painful song
A little sad truth
But life full of sad songs
Penny for a wish
But wishin' won't make you a soldier.
With a pretty kiss for a pretty face
Can't have it's way
Y'know tramps like us, we were born to pay.

Love has gone away
And there's no one here now
And there's nothing left to say
But, oh, how I miss him, baby
Oh, baby, come on and slip away
Come on, baby, why don't you slip away

Love is gone away
Took the rings off my fingers
And there's nothing left to say
But, oh how, oh how I need him, baby
Come on, baby, I need you baby
Oh, please don't slip away
I need your loving so bad, babe
Please don't slip away