No viewer needs to see Nick Cage jerk off more than twice before realizing that the character he plays - in this case, the screen version of "Adaptation" writer Charlie Kaufman - is a lonely, disaffected, and sexually frustrated individual who has a better chance of getting shot by a toothless Gator fan than he does of getting laid.
This doesn't seem to stop Kaufman (and by "Kaufman," I mean Charlie, because although he's credited as a co-writer, Donald is not a real person) from basking in the misery of the character whose name he shares.
Directed by Spike Jonze, "Adaptation" has already garnered loads of Oscar buzz, and it certainly does contain all the hallmarks of what makes a film "artistic" to eyes so trained they can see only award potential.
The film is even entertaining, in an overly self-aware way. But with the exception of Chris Cooper's portrayal of John Larouche, none of the performances are particularly engaging, and unless the viewer is willing to tolerate a piece so aware of its own filmic medium, there's little chance that they'll be satisfied with the way Kaufman (both on and off screen) ends his script.
Performances are serviceable, with the aforementioned exception. Scenes from the set of "Being John Malkovich," which Kaufman wrote in 1999 (and was also directed by Jonze) are fascinating for those with an interest in behind-the-scenes Hollywood drama, and seeing Kaufman/Cage's slow disintegration from a self-assured artist to a hack so desperate, he enlists his by-the-rules brother in finishing his screenplay is worth a giggle or two, but in general, the film lacks the zany otherworldliness of "Malkovich," as well as its inspired plot.
The self-congratulatory tone of much of the film is a bit too smug to be endearing; it's as if Kaufman wrote the piece thinking about how he could let thousands of moviegoers feel like they were in on an easily deciphered "secret" instead of having his film contain real meaning.
Obviously, Kaufman has the ability to write well. He proved this with "Malkovich," and has apparently done well with "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind," which is currently on limited release. But since the sweetest, truest moments of "Adaptation" come from the internal monologues Kaufman/Cage recites while contemplating the dilemmas he faces as a writer, and Kaufman himself later admits in the screenplay that internal monologue is a cheap way of conveying a character's motivations, the viewer begins to feel it as though Kaufman has given up his earlier intentions of writing an artistically true cinematic piece.
And maybe that's the trick of it; perhaps "Adaptation" is really a mediation on how impossible it is to have artistic aims in Hollywood. If this is the case, then the third act of the film is nothing less than a betrayal, because try as he might to recapture the earlier feel of the film, neither Kaufman's writing nor Jonze's direction, and especially not Cage's acting, can pull the audience back into re-investing their emotions.
Jonze, whose credits since "Malkovich" seem unbearably laden with mentions of MTV's "Jackass," does a serviceable job in his direction. He coaxes from Meryl Streep, a reasonably exhausted, worn depiction of a disillusioned New York City writer whose search for self brings her to an affair with one of her interview subjects.
In the end, what "Adaptation" will do is entertain pseudo-analytical intellectuals who want to feel like they've seen something deep and artistic without really challenging themselves. There's not much more to this film than meets the eye, and what meets the eye is a blend of mediocrity and unmet aspirations that, while successfully capturing what it feels like to be a writer under a deadline, staring at a blank piece of paper (or computer screen, as the case may be) and without an idea in one's head - hardly worthy of beating out some of this year's other Oscar contenders.
