Sour Grapes
It was just last year that Paul Giamatti played the hilariously beleaguered Harvey Pekar in American Splendor, a role that he occupied with slumped, head-hanging perfection. Did you know how much you missed him? As soon as Giamatti appears onscreen in Sideways, the lovely new film from director Alexander Payne, you realize how long it’s been. Where did he go? Is he OK? Does he need a hug?
That’s the magic of Giamatti, an actor with the look and feel of a man whose luck has long since left the building, someone whose personal relationship with disaster could pull you into its orbit and suck you dry. But you want to be near him. He’s smart, funny and magnetic. There’s something tender in him that you can’t help but love.
In Sideways, Giamatti plays another head-hanger, a man whose life has puddled in depression and loss. Miles teaches eighth grade, but he’s really a writer suffering over the twin failures of his marriage and his novel. He finds comfort only in the arcane particulars of wine tasting and connoisseurship. As the film opens, Miles must rescue his friend Jack (the ruddy, goofy Thomas Haden Church) from the home of Jack’s soon-to-be in-laws and show him a week of bachelor joy before his wedding the following Saturday.
These men should not be friends. Miles cares about everything. He has worried his life into a tight ball of angst that can be loosened only by swirling a bit of wine around in his glass, nosing it, holding it up to the light, sipping it, gargling with it and pronouncing it “tighter than a nun’s ass.” And then downing a couple of bottles.
Jack will drink anything. One of the ongoing jokes of the movie is that, whereas Miles has to put every glass through a gauntlet, Jack just wants to swig and smile. “Quaffable but far from transcendent,” Miles pronounces one wine. “I like it. It’s great,” says Jack about this and every other glass. It’s no coincidence that Miles’ favorite grape is pinot, a “thin-skinned, temperamental” fruit that’s difficult to grow. Cabernet, like Jack, “can grow anywhere and thrive even when neglected.” In other words, it isn’t worth Miles’ time.
Jack has only one thing on his mind: “I am going to get laid before I get married on Saturday. Do you read me?” Jack worries that Miles will spoil his joyride — “Just try to be your normal, humorous self, the guy you were before the tailspin” — but it is he who threatens to ruin things for Miles.
How? Jack hooks up with Stephanie, a sexy wine pourer (Sandra Oh, Payne’s real-life wife), and the two promptly hop into bed for a multiday romp. Meanwhile, Miles develops a connection with Maya (Virginia Madsen), a soulful waitress whose palate is even more refined than his. It’s no coincidence that Maya sounds like Miles. Of course, their similarities won’t stop Miles from failing to make a move or keep him from fleeing when she does. Miles can’t accept success even when it bops him over the head.
Director Payne, who has made two brilliant films (Election and About Schmidt) and one fine one (Citizen Ruth), leaves the flattened vowels, pastel-hued Hummels and dumpster-in-every-shot anomie of hometown Omaha for the tawny, rolling hills of the central California coast. Nobody in this movie wants to depart for greener pastures; they’re already there. Director of photography Phedon Papamichael uses filters to get the hazy, yellowed, low-color-contrast look of a small ’70s movie. The feel is right for the film’s characters, who are themselves ’70s throwbacks.
Sideways doesn’t reach for the dramatic depths of its predecessor, About Schmidt, which dwelled in the darkness of an aging man who has been painfully absent from his life. It’s a lighter, far funnier film, with a (twisted) buddy-pic vibe and a good-natured heart. Its ending errs on the side of predictability (though it’s hard to say what else Payne could have done), but Sideways is impeccably written, directed and acted — one of the most enjoyable films to appear this year.
