Document text
By Chris Honoré for Revels August 27. 2015 12:01AM 'The End of the Tour' is one long conversation Jesse Eisenberg, left, and Jason Segel appear in a scene from "The End of the Tour." PHOTO COURTESY OF A24 FILMS. The End of the Tour ; 1 hr 45 min; Rated R   Summer is blockbuster season. Best example this year: the tension-filled “Mission: Impossible-Rogue Nation.” We equate long days and warm weather with over-the-top, big-tent films that are plot-lite while wowing us with action. However, if you love movies, or perhaps you have at some point read the words of David Foster Wallace, then you might find yourself in a darkened theater watching “The End of the Tour,” wondering how Wallace’s compelling, but ultimately sad story will unfold on the big screen. You may know that D.F.W. is regarded as a literary rock star from the '90s. A wordsmith of his generation who knew no equal, and when he published his tour de force novel, “Infinite Jest,” a 1,078-page tome embraced by critics who used hyperbolic praise to draw attention to what some referred to as post-modern genius. The challenge faced in “The End of the Tour” by not only the film’s director, James Ponsoldt, but by the actors, Jesse Eisenberg and Jason Segel, to include the writers of the screenplay, was how to bring Wallace the man and the writer to the screen while engaging the audience. The setup is this: The year is 1996. David Lipsky (Eisenberg) is given an assignment by Rolling Stone Magazine to spend time with Wallace (Segel) and accompany him on his last book tour interview, which takes place in Minneapolis. Lipsky is also a writer having just published his debut novel, “The Art Fair,”and yearns to garner some of the attention and fame that has suddenly descended on Wallace. He arrives at Wallace’s home in Bloomington, Illinois, where he is teaching at a local university. Both are uncomfortable, tentative, for very different reasons, hence the opening scenes are filled with stilted dialogue and long moments of silence. But here is the reality of this film. The above summarizes the entire plot. Lipsky arrives, has a tape recorder, they talk a lot, over meals, sitting in diners, on airplanes, in Wallace’s living room, often about mundane topics, and at other times about compelling observations, nuggets shared about contemporary life and pop culture (Wallace is a fan of Alanis Morisette, for example, and loves television though he doesn’t own one). Wallace also shares what he perceives as the dangers of fame. He fears he’s becoming trapped in the voracious public maw that all but demands to know all the corners of famous people’s lives. Wallace worries that any remnant of his authentic, solitary existence will be distorted and repackaged for public consumption by, say, Lipsky’s pending piece in Rolling Stone. Of course, that is why the reporter is there, to, in effect, violate the covenant he makes with Wallace and not obscure what is honestly revealed. He is, actually, a bit of a weasel. His editor insists that he broach the subject of heroin, not because there is any credible evidence that Wallace used heroin; in fact, he tells Lipsky that he was briefly hospitalized because of depression, but nothing more. What “The End of the Tour” is, in essence, is a long conversation. That’s it. A series of set pieces in which Wallace and Lipsky dialogue about, well, lots of stuff. Some of the language is lifted directly from the tapes Lipsky made during the five days he spent with Wallace. The interview, regrettably, never touches on the process of Wallace’s art. How does he work? What compels him to write? Where does he work? What was involved in producing not only a book of more than 1,000 pages, but a body of work — short pieces, magazine articles — before “Infinite Jest”was published. By the end of the film, what is known about Wallace (at least his interior voice, that running monologue that can be so revelatory) is little more than an outline, a shadow cast on a wall. The real Wallace, who committed suicide at the age of 46, remains a mystery. His countless words a window barely ajar. “Depression” as causation seems too vacuous a word. To the film’s credit, the narrative does not foreshadow what will occur 12 years later. Bonus online review : "American Ultra"; 96 minutes; Rated R Fifteen minutes after having seen America Ultra it will begin to fade like a photograph left out in the sun. But that’s not meant to denigrate what is actually a fun-enough summer diversion. Besides, it’s August and it’s hot, and the theaters are chilly if not bring-a-sweater cold. Everything about Ultra may be familiar. A late 20-something kid, Mike (Jesse Eisenberg), a small town stoner, is living with his girlfriend, Phoebe (Kristen Stewart). He works in a grocery store, doing the late-night shift, and finds time to sketch comic book characters. Nothing in his life has direction other than he wants to find the right moment to propose to Phoebe, about whom he is seriously crazy. But abruptly there’s a crisis involving the CIA and a program that’s being retired of which, unbeknownst to Mike, he is a part of. People come to kill him and suddenly, ala the Jason Bourne movies, he finds he has skills he didn’t know he possessed. “Where did I learn to do that?” Phoebe and Mike are now on the run, first from the cops, then the organization. And with the help of some interesting friends, well, things get interesting. What can be said of American Ultra (I still don’t get the title) is that it’s fast-paced and Stewart and Eisenberg have genuine chemistry. Something that was revealed in a 2009 film they made titled Adventureland (a nice little film that deserved more play than it got). Stewart is a good actor ( The Twilight Saga) , as is Eisenberg ( The Social Network) . Together, they can make a scene hum with energy. Their relationship makes the film. If you want a summer diversion, something to break up the dog days of August, find American Ultra.    http://www.dailytidings.com/article/20150827/NEWS/150829930 © 2015 Copyright © 1995-2011 Crain Communications Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms of Use Privacy Statement -->