Salina Art Center

Film critic David Thomson once commented in the L.A. Times on actor Ben Stiller: “It seems to me he tries to be weird, he tries to be flat in his affect.  Ultra cool.  It definitely works.  I think what he’s going for is attitude… My 15-year-old takes him very seriously.”  This is rather cautious praise at best, and Thomson didn’t include Stiller in his influential The New Biographical Dictionary of Film. It does pose a challenge: much of Stiller’s appeal comes from keeping his distance from us—he doesn’t seem to care if he’s sympathetic or likeable.  But how far can he develop as an actor when so much of acting is creating not distance but intimacy, inviting viewers into one’s soul?  Is Stiller too detached to deliver an actual performance?  The latest film from writer-director Noah Baumbach suggests that Stiller might be worth an entry in Thomson’s latest edition after all.  In Greenberg, Stiller shows genuine chops, although he plays (on the surface) the same kind of egotistical, insensitive jerk that he generally offers for audience derision and laughter.  Playing what looks like a typical Ben Stiller role in a dramatic rather than comic mode, Stiller pulls off a considerable feat, creating one of the most mesmerizing characters of the year.  Roger Greenberg is a middle-aged former rock musician who once had a chance to make the big time; on the cusp of stardom, he left the band and became a carpenter.  Recently released from a psychiatric hospital, Greenberg accepts an offer from his wealthy brother to house-sit his Hollywood mansion for a few weeks.  It’s a hand-out, really, since most of the management will be done by the brother’s personal assistant, Florence (Greta Gerwig).  But at least it gives the self-pitying, anti-social Roger a place to live and, through Florence, some connection to humanity.  Roger isn’t a lovable loser; he’s self-centered, often mean, and usually clueless.  Many viewers will want to grab him by the lapels—if he ever wore a jacket with lapels—and shake some sense into him.  It’s not unusual in movies for nominal heroes to provoke reactions like that from audiences, but in this case the frustration is intentional—and grounded in a reality that we can recognize.  Baumbach is adept at creating characters that bug us, who undermine themselves, say stupid things, make mistakes, alienate the people they need the most: we think of Nicole Kidman in Margot at the Wedding and Jeff Daniels in The Squid and the Whale.  But these characters are often the most compelling, and not just in the sense of watching a car accident.  While we don’t cheer for these characters like we’re asked to do in other films, we do find them interesting. Perhaps it’s their unpredictability or the feeling of potential—like Roger Greenberg, who could have become a famous musician but couldn’t cope with the pressure (he probably would’ve collapsed completely under the weight of fame and fortune).  And we hope that Greenberg can break out of his cycle of self-delusion, possibly by connecting to Beth, an ex-girlfriend (Jennifer Jason Leigh, who co-wrote the film with husband Baumbach), or Ivan, a former band-mate (Rhys Ifan).  Beth and Ivan try in their different ways to help Roger, though Roger has hurt them in the past.  Baumbach is noted for his empathy, not just because he cares about people like Greenberg but because he appreciates the strength of people like Beth and Ivan, who have moved on with their lives but still care.  He’s one of the most forgiving filmmakers, and his movies always seem to have an extra dose of humanity as a result.  Surely it was Baumbach who inspired Ben Stiller’s excellent performance, keyed to his willingness to play it “straight” but not without humor or insight.  Stiller has sometimes coasted through silly blockbusters for a paycheck, but Greenberg is proof that he’s a real actor, one that moviegoers who are not 15-year-old boys can take seriously.