Auteur theory suggests that the director and the story are two separate entities, with the director being the one who arrives at the story and, through their filmmaking, provides the story with meaning. In this approach, conventional narrative becomes a tool for the cinematic experience that the filmmaker endeavours to create. Jonathan Demme was also an auteur, but his style of filmmaking is unique in that his aesthetic does not come from an expression of interiority, but rather a commitment to documenting the multitudes of inner lives that exist outside of himself. Demme’s films are filled with bit parts and one-scene characters, people who say there’s something or other just up the road and then never return. But in Demme’s hands, these characters have lives that often push past the boundaries of their narrative.
"...in Demme’s hands, these characters have lives that often push past the boundaries of their narrative."
Demme’s 1986 screwball comedy Something Wild belongs to a usually insulated genre: Free-spirited woman goes on a romp, uptight guy hems and haws until he learns to get on board. Everyone else is defined by this relationship: they either serve to bring the lovebirds together or keep them apart. Something Wild reverses this dynamic: Much of the film is devoted to Charlie and Lulu (played by Jeff Daniels and Melanie Griffith) sharing brief moments with strangers and becoming defined by these moments. Take an early scene where a hungover Charlie is using a phone booth outside a motel. Somebody comes up to him, hands him a can of Pepto-Bismol and says “No matter what, it’s better to be a live dog than a dead lion”, and doesn’t appear for the rest of the film. If Demme were looking to streamline the film down to its bare essentials, this scene would probably be on the cutting room floor. But not only does it happen in Something Wild, it resonates with Charlie to the point where towards the end of the film, after he’s been changed by his adventures and decides to leave his office job, he repeats this line to his former co-worker as he’s heading out. Demme gives us the feeling that when the Pepto-Bismol guy walks off screen, he doesn't disappear but instead keeps walking, maybe back to his motel room, maybe back to his car. Wherever he goes, he will continue to exist and he will continue to have things to say.
The dramatic crux of the film, the arrival of Ray Sinclair (played by the late, great Ray Liotta), is an extension of this idea. Before he makes his grand entrance, Demme establishes the existence of an ex-husband in Lulu’s past. Since this is in a scene where she and Charlie are visiting her mother, we’re under the impression that this is merely backstory, something that’s nice to know but ultimately won’t mess too much with the here and now. But Ray arrives at Lulu’s high school reunion, a piece of the background crawling his way into the spotlight and forcing the two leads to quit playing Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. Thematically and in terms of personality, Ray is violence incarnate, like a young hip Frank Booth. And yet the beauty of Something Wild is that even in the darkest hour when Ray has abducted Lulu and Charlie is forced to pursue him, these bit characters still exist, and because they’re removed from the trio’s web of danger, they provide Charlie and the film with peace by virtue of having their own separate existences that Charlie can happen upon. In this way, Something Wild functions as a tour through a world teeming with life. Here’s a used car salesman. Here’s some guys rapping outside a gas station. Here’s a little girl who sees a man sleeping in his car and asks if he needs any help.
Auteur theory suggests that the director and the story are two separate entities, with the director being the one who arrives at the story and, through their filmmaking, provides the story with meaning. In this approach, conventional narrative becomes a tool for the cinematic experience that the filmmaker endeavours to create. Jonathan Demme was also an auteur, but his style of filmmaking is unique in that his aesthetic does not come from an expression of interiority, but rather a commitment to documenting the multitudes of inner lives that exist outside of himself. Demme’s films are filled with bit parts and one-scene characters, people who say there’s something or other just up the road and then never return. But in Demme’s hands, these characters have lives that often push past the boundaries of their narrative.
"...in Demme’s hands, these characters have lives that often push past the boundaries of their narrative."
Demme’s 1986 screwball comedy Something Wild belongs to a usually insulated genre: Free-spirited woman goes on a romp, uptight guy hems and haws until he learns to get on board. Everyone else is defined by this relationship: they either serve to bring the lovebirds together or keep them apart. Something Wild reverses this dynamic: Much of the film is devoted to Charlie and Lulu (played by Jeff Daniels and Melanie Griffith) sharing brief moments with strangers and becoming defined by these moments. Take an early scene where a hungover Charlie is using a phone booth outside a motel. Somebody comes up to him, hands him a can of Pepto-Bismol and says “No matter what, it’s better to be a live dog than a dead lion”, and doesn’t appear for the rest of the film. If Demme were looking to streamline the film down to its bare essentials, this scene would probably be on the cutting room floor. But not only does it happen in Something Wild, it resonates with Charlie to the point where towards the end of the film, after he’s been changed by his adventures and decides to leave his office job, he repeats this line to his former co-worker as he’s heading out. Demme gives us the feeling that when the Pepto-Bismol guy walks off screen, he doesn't disappear but instead keeps walking, maybe back to his motel room, maybe back to his car. Wherever he goes, he will continue to exist and he will continue to have things to say.
The dramatic crux of the film, the arrival of Ray Sinclair (played by the late, great Ray Liotta), is an extension of this idea. Before he makes his grand entrance, Demme establishes the existence of an ex-husband in Lulu’s past. Since this is in a scene where she and Charlie are visiting her mother, we’re under the impression that this is merely backstory, something that’s nice to know but ultimately won’t mess too much with the here and now. But Ray arrives at Lulu’s high school reunion, a piece of the background crawling his way into the spotlight and forcing the two leads to quit playing Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. Thematically and in terms of personality, Ray is violence incarnate, like a young hip Frank Booth. And yet the beauty of Something Wild is that even in the darkest hour when Ray has abducted Lulu and Charlie is forced to pursue him, these bit characters still exist, and because they’re removed from the trio’s web of danger, they provide Charlie and the film with peace by virtue of having their own separate existences that Charlie can happen upon. In this way, Something Wild functions as a tour through a world teeming with life. Here’s a used car salesman. Here’s some guys rapping outside a gas station. Here’s a little girl who sees a man sleeping in his car and asks if he needs any help.