In the Company of Men
Neil Labute, 1997
#2,
1997 Skandies
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In Washington, a 410-pound convicted killer is fighting his execution on
constitutional grounds. He claims that, if he is hanged, his head will be
completely torn from his body, which would amount to "cruel and unusual
punishment." Now, having your head completely torn from your body is cruel,
I'll grant you. But is it really that unusual?
| —Norm Macdonald |
In this movie there's a guy named Howard who looks like an even nerdier
version of Niles Crane: small, glasses, receding hairline. So it comes
as a surprise when he explains that he got into college on an athletic
scholarship. "Blew out my arm sophomore year," he laments. "That's
when I nabbed the business degree."
Business schools in the United States generally require applicants to take
the Graduate Management Admission Test, or GMAT. As it happens, that's one
of the tests I teach; I just started a new GMAT class in San Francisco town
last week. The first thing students have to learn is how the Computer-Adaptive
Testing format works, and the lesson plan calls for teachers to explain it a
couple of different ways. Step one is to walk students through the relevant
page of the manual: "So, as the chart indicates, Amy starts with a score of 30,
and so the program serves her a 30-level question. She gets it right, so her
score gets bumped up to 35, and now she gets a 35-level question, which is a
little harder. Meanwhile, Brian gets his 30-level question wrong..." Step
two is to take a different angle. "...this goes to show that on the GMAT,
first impressions are really important. It's like dating. Say you've been
seeing someone for a while, and it's time to meet the parents..." And though
I'd never thought about it this way before, now I'm never going to be able to
teach a GMAT class again without thinking of Roman Jakobson.
Jakobson famously advanced the notion that metaphor and metonymy basically
define the space within which communication takes place. Metaphor in
Jakobson's schema encompasses all comparative figures and would therefore
include the simile above. Why use a simile? Because we want students to
have not just an intellectual sense but a visceral sense of how important
it is to make a good first impression on the GMAT. They generally already
have a visceral sense of how important first impressions are in dating; the
simile says, "Transfer that over, and you've got it." But the simile is
our backup plan. Our first approach employs synecdoche, which as an
associative figure falls under the heading of metonymy. Why use synecdoche?
Because most people don't understand the abstract principles of
Computer-Adaptive Testing, presented on their own, nearly as well as a concrete
account of how those principles shape the moment-to-moment experience of taking
the test. And since we don't have enough time to convey the experiences of all
100,000+ people who take the GMAT each year, we pick a couple of representative
members of that group and let the part stand for the whole.
Synecdoche is also the means by which a lot of narrative operates. Take
the one movie that beat In the Company of Men in the '97 Skandies,
The Sweet Hereafter. It's about a small
community in the Canadian Rockies that loses most of its children to a school
bus accident. Through synecdoche, the families we meet in the film stand
for everyone who's suffered through such a loss. And thus the movie is
able to make statements about what it means to lose a child, and about the
human compulsion to find someone to blame for accidents, that reach far
beyond the confines of one little fictional town. But even a cursory look
at narrative shows that metaphor is also frequently at work. Sometimes it's
a simple one-to-one correspondence dropped into an otherwise non-metaphorical
story (as with the speech in Sideways about
the fragility of pinot grapes that might as well be accompanied by a bright
flashing caption saying "HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF!!"); sometimes the entire
premise of the story is metaphorical on a number of different levels (as in
Being John Malkovich, whose titular activity
simultaneously stands for body dysphoria, celebrity worship, remaking of
oneself to appeal to others, and writing fictional characters, to name just
the ones I can think of as I type this sentence). And there's nothing that
prevents metaphor and metonymy from working together! One of the many things
I love about Pleasantville is that the
monochrome world suggests America in the 1950s both through metaphor (the
absence of color standing for emotional repression) and metonymy (for what
represents '50s America nowadays more than those black-and-white sitcoms?).
And one of the things I find most interesting about In the Company of
Men is that it presents two parallel storylines, one metaphorical and one
synecdochic... and a lot of the reviews I've read treat the metaphorical
one as synecdochic and seem not to notice that the synecdochic one is
there at all.
The premise of the movie is that the corporation Howard works for has
sent him to one of its offices out in flyover country for six weeks; it's
not exactly a plum assignment, but it's his first time in charge, so he
feels like he's moving up the food chain. Accompanying him is Chad, an
old friend from school who now works with him and will in fact be reporting
to him. Half the plot unfolds when they swap stories about their troubles
with women, and Chad proposes that while they're out in the sticks, they
find a young woman who's hard up for dates — one who's damaged
in some way — and simultaneously woo her, then dump her hard,
for the sport of it. "She'll be reaching for the sleeping pills within a
week," Chad says, "and we will laugh about this till we are very old men."
Howard hesitantly agrees to the plan, and they spring it on a deaf secretary.
And those commentators who took this as a synecdochic plot wrote that the
movie was all about — glancing through Rotten Tomatoes here to
refresh my memory — "misogyny," "sexual politics," "male
anxieties," "the case against men." And normally this would be the part
in which I'd let my favorite hobbyhorses out of the barn and talk about
how really this is all just superstructure and we should be talking about
how our socioeconomic system selects for sadistic, hypercompetitive
assholes like Chad. But in this case I don't have to. Because the other
half of the plot addresses precisely this topic!
Why is Chad such a sadistic, hypercompetitive asshole? He tells us
flat out: "That's what business is about — who's sporting the
nastiest sack of venom and who is willing to use it." Half the movie has
nothing to do with the poor deaf secretary or gender relations. It's
about Chad's attempt to climb over Howard in the corporate dominance
hierarchy. More broadly, it's about what happens when the skill a society
selects for in distributing rewards is the ability to ascend dominance
hierarchies — you get people like Chad. Chad's life is an
endless string of stupid little power plays. The arrival of the morning
donuts represents a daily renegotiation of the office pecking order.
Someone's dropped change represents an opportunity to secretly pocket a
quarter before handing the rest back and thereby score 25¢ worth of
dominance points. Every trip to the photocopier involves a delicate
calculation: will "losing" a few pages help me undermine anyone ahead of
me in the hierarchy? Those who have any scruples about playing the
game — those with ethics, those who genuinely like other
people, those naive enough to trust anyone, those who find that having
to be in competition mode all the time adversely affects their quality of
life — inevitably fall by the wayside. Those who hate everyone
and enjoy inflicting suffering have a huge advantage.
The thing is, we know this. In certain contexts we are taught to admire
it. As hypercompetitive assholes go Chad can't hold a candle to Michael
Jordan, who was worshipped in the media for twenty years for his "killer
instinct" and "win-at-all-costs mentality"; it wasn't until just recently,
when Jordan
flashed his personality on a podium rather than a basketball court,
that mainstream commentators dared to suggest that, hey, y'know, maybe
those aren't actually admirable qualities. The change of context opened
some eyes. In the Company of Men functions the same way. Labute
lays out his two plots side by side. Chad acts the same way in both of
them. But in the corporate world — which Labute diagnoses as
frathouse culture writ large (note the hazing scene, and Chad's pitch to
Howard that his proposed prank is just "the same crap we played in school,
only better") — that type of behavior is so common that half
the people who watched this movie seem not to have noticed it. (As of
this writing, the Wikipedia plot summary for this movie makes no mention
of the office plot at all!) The purpose of the parallel story is to
reframe Chad's behavior in the unusual arena of courtship and thereby
allow even the jaded to notice that it is cruel. And to hammer home that,
yes, this is a metaphor, Labute concludes the film by having the synecdochic
plot swallow the metaphorical one up.
Though I suppose Chad's plan to devastate a randomly selected woman isn't
that unusual either. I went to 4chan just now to see how long it would take
me to find something similar. Here was the third thread down on the very
first page:
Your Friends & Neighbors
Neil Labute, 1998
And, to wrap up my trip through the '98 Skandies, here's Labute's
followup, which won a couple of acting awards but was distinctly less
popular overall than its predecessor. I was less impressed this time
around than the first couple of times I saw it, but I still think I
liked it more than most. Many reviews I've read scoffed at the title,
with its adolescent implication that the characters are soulless cretins,
pairing up solely in order to use each other's bodies as masturbation
aids, because that's what everyone's like, maaan. But it seems
to me that the movie is mainly about that awkward stage of a relationship
when crazy lust isn't getting it done anymore and you find yourself in
fumbling conversations about The Sex and how it could be better, or not,
or, um, yeah, so... and to the extent that the title suggests that other
people out there might be able to relate to this, I have to give it a
thumbs-up.
That said, the story is pretty shapeless, and Labute does seem to be going
for shock more than anything else. And unfortunately, Labute's subsequent
career makes Your Friends & Neighbors, which at the time looked
like a mild case of the old sophomore jinx, appear to be simply the first
step from movie-nerd adulation for In the Company of Men to Youtube
infamy for The Wicker Man. In the '90s Mike D'Angelo could write that
"For all of his evident intelligence, confidence, and skill, I don't get the
impression that Labute has quite found his own voice yet. When he does, I
suspect that four stars may well seem like too few." Little did we know at
the time that when Labute found his voice it would sound like
this.
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