7 ‘Anomalisa’ Scenes That Got Real
What is it to be human? A couple of computer animated puppets may just have the answer.
This age-old conundrum, so prevalent in all of Charlie Kaufman’s creations, is featured front and center in his latest film: the lovingly crafted, heartbreakingly grounded stop-motion animation, “Anomalisa.” Originally written and performed as a radio play, “Anomalisa” tells the tale of Michael Stone (David Thewlis), esteemed author and customer service guru, as he comes to terms with his bleak existence over the course of a single night at a hotel in Cincinnati.
The question for Michael is not “to be or not to be?” but “how to be?”, and he discovers a potential escape from his existential funk in unassuming sales rep Lisa (Jennifer Jason Leigh). As Michael struggles to transcend the monotony of everyday life, Kaufman presents a tale that itself transcends the medium of animation and comes alive in a deeply touching way. Here are seven aspects of “Anomalisa” that get at the heart of our dull, dismal, yet strangely hopeful lives.
1) We’re all hiding behind masks
Co-director Duke Johnson and his team of animators worked with 1,261 faces and 1,000 costumes and props, completing an average of two seconds of animations a day over the course of three years. With such painstaking attention to realism in the rendition of the human body, it’s disconcerting to see the seams on the faces of Michael and Lisa, a detail that would normally be smoothed over digitally. The decision to leave the cracks intact was a deliberate choice on the part of the filmmakers, and it contributes beautifully to the film’s intimate theme.
We are all, in a sense, wearing masks: we change faces based on who we’re with, how we’re feeling, or how we want to present ourselves to the world on any given day. “Anomalisa” literalizes this idea with familiar Kaufmanesque sincerity. Who are we behind our masks? No one can really know. As Michael gazes at his reflection in a fogged up hotel mirror, momentarily experiencing a flash of fourth-wall understanding that he, too, is wearing a mask, we are forced to wonder if we can ever really know ourselves, either.
2) We self-criticize
Lisa, Lisa, Anomalisa…Throughout the film, this mega — Michael Stone fan insists over and over that she’s ugly, stupid and nothing special. Every time she opens her mouth, she urges herself to “shut up!”, and while watching her scenes I had half a mind to agree with her. But the truth is, Lisa’s horrendously awkward, self-denigrating demeanor is cringeworthy precisely because it is so painfully relatable. With her bland speech patterns, she is the embodiment of the frustration of being unable to truly express oneself; with her inferiority complex, she gives voice to the whispers inside our heads that tell us we are not as good as our more charming, more attractive friend.
3) We have awkward sex
Many know “Anomalisa” as “that movie with the puppet sex,” and I can assure you that the scene does indeed stand out. But like the rest of the film, the sex scene between Michael and Lisa is memorable for its mundanity, poignant for its simplicity. We all know that Hollywood lies with its zero-to-sixty, montage-ready lovemaking; by contrast, the film’s computer animated sex scene is as real as it gets. There are missteps, there is shyness, and there is a tenderness between two puppets that is so rarely seen on-screen between two flesh-and-blood actors.
4) We’re terribly boring
“Anomalisa” moves slowly and deliberately through the dullness of daily existence, forcing us to confront the realization that life is really, really boring. We can feel Michael’s impatience during his cab ride from the airport, as the driver jabbers on about Cincinnati’s wholly ordinary tourist spots. We can sense his desperation to overcome the phoniness of small talk as he attempts to connect with a former girlfriend, even while uttering such platitudes as “You look good!” and “Your job sounds interesting!” Are we all simply stuck in a world where every hotel room looks exactly the same? Can we ever break free of corporate golf carts and showers that run way too hot?
5) We get what we want, and then we don’t want it
As the only character other than Michael voiced by a distinct actor, Lisa seems to be just the antidote to Michael’s myopia. He revels in the magical newness of her voice, asking her to sing to him and to tell him about her day. He says she is “extraordinary,” even if he doesn’t know why. He seems to have finally found that proverbial light in the existential darkness, and he resolves never to lose her. But as soon as Michael reveals his plan to run away from his ordinary life and live with Lisa, she begins to take on the form of every other drone (all voiced by Ted Noonan). He then starts to criticize, rather than revel in, her every quirk. It’s a phenomenon that is so predictably and tragically human: the minute Michael gets his heart’s desire, he realizes he no longer wants her.
6) We’re all just “really bloody lonely”…
Upon settling into his Cincinnati hotel room, Michael makes an ill-advised booty call to a former girlfriend, inviting her to meet him at the hotel bar. The rendezvous does not go as planned. She storms out and Michael, a whole mess of pent-up desolation, cries out: “I’m just really bloody lonely!” More so than any of Kaufman’s other films, “Anomalisa” fleshes out the pervasive loneliness that hangs over every human being. From Michael’s perspective, Lisa is the only one with a unique voice. The fact that everyone outside Michael’s head is identical highlights his loneliness even more so. No matter who we connect with, we cannot escape the fact that at the end of the day, we can only ever know what’s going on inside our own heads.
7) …but we strive to be alone together
“Anomalisa” feels pretty dire, with its depictions of inescapable loneliness and the sheer mundanity of everyday life. But instead of succumbing to despair, we can choose to revel in the challenge. When Michael asks Lisa to talk about her day, she does so with gusto, and her bland account of her road trip somehow takes on a sparkling quality.
“Look for what is special about each individual,” Michael says. “Every person you speak to needs love.” He points out that each person has aches, each person has a childhood, each person has good days, and bad. Perhaps we are all alone, but we can at least be alone together. And if we’re lucky, we can find that one anomaly that makes life worth living — our very own anomalisa.
“Anomalisa” opens Dec. 30. Watch the trailer below.
Reach Staff Reporter Allyson Gronowitz here.
