Wonder Boys

There’s a shot in Curtis Hanson’s Wonder Boys that stayed with me for days after seeing the film. The image is a simple one, which may be part of its attraction — it comes toward film’s end, after many emotional episodes and lots of conversation about these episodes. It’s outside on a sunny morning, and book editor Robert Downey Jr. is throwing himself vainly through the air, trying to save thousands of manuscript pages which have been loosed from their boxes. Blown by wind gusts so they swirl about and slap up against Downey’s body, the pages continue to elude his grasp.

Granted, it’s a loony image, brief and reminiscent of Downey’s youthful turn as Charlie Chaplin. But it’s so charming and delicate that it stands out in this film, which is, for the most part, bogged down in a self-consciously quirky mix of eccentric comedy and literary affectations, the kind of mix that characterizes novels set in and around university English departments. Set at a fictional school in Pittsburgh (and shot mostly at Carnegie Mellon), Wonder Boys tells the story of a 50-something creative writing teacher’s "coming of age."

Technically, Grady Tripp is what you might call an ex-wonder boy. Long past the flush of his phenomenally successful first novel, Grady (Michael Douglas) has developed a reputation for sleeping around and not finishing his second book. He’s been writing it for seven years and it’s become mammoth, numbering thousands of pages with no conclusion in sight.

Wonder-boyness certainly hangs over the film’s major players: Hanson, whose last film, L.A. Confidential is surely a difficult act to follow, and Douglas, who has lived a very public trek from youthful prodigality to self-discovery over the years. (Not to mention the fact that Downey’s Chaplin was his own wonder-boy moment.)

As the movie opens, Grady is teaching a class. With lines from Tennyson and Ulysses adorning the chalkboard, he paces and ponders in voiceover, commenting on his students and his life, which, right now, appears to suck. His wife has left him; his New York-based editor, Terry Crabtree (Downey), is on his way to visit; he’s about to learn that his lover (and the wife of his department chair) Sara (the always wonderful Frances McDormand) is pregnant; and one of his students, James Leer (Tobey Maguire) is undergoing something of a meltdown. Looking for direction amid all this chaos, Grady takes up James’ cause, which leads to some not very surprising complications.

James is a gifted writer and chronic liar: Aside from his frequently expressed admiration for his hero Grady, he doesn’t say much that’s true, about his background or beliefs. Rather, he pleases people by seeming to be what they want. (Maguire is perfect, alternately mopey and resourceful, opaque and vulnerable.) When Grady learns that the kid’s homeless, he feeds him and invites him to sleep at his house, where another student, Hannah (Katie Holmes) is also renting a room. Much of Grady’s characterization takes place amid his domestic clutter (as he wears a pink "writing" bathrobe, smokes dope on his porch, shuffles through his piles of papers and books) and in his ancient boat of a car, where he spends a lot of time journeying from one relational fix-up to another. It turns out that this car actually belongs to a local bar owner, the film’s sole black character, whom Grady and Terry take to calling "Vernon" (jazz musician Richard Knox). While his supersexy look recalls a young James Brown in his heyday, Vernon’s obvious respect for his pregnant white girlfriend affords a comparison for Grady’s inability to commit.

Eventually, inspired by Vernon’s honesty, Hannah’s precocious wisdom, Terry’s energy, Sara’s patience and James’ overwhelming desires, Grady discovers what he wants. In part because of his early good fortune, and in part because he’s a man-child and a product of American mass culture, Grady has been unable to make choices: concerning his book, his marriage, his affair, his teaching career, his friends. While Wonder Boys’ route is diverting, it’s not revelatory: The film’s major insight is that James’ need for approval parallels Grady’s own trajectory, though the latter has styled himself as restless and rebellious rather than seeking such sanctions. Wonder boys, in other words, will be wonder boys.

—Cindy Fuchs