A Reunion

Frequent readers of my blog know that I am an unabashed American Pie enthusiast, so let's not waste any time with a build up, or a fancy intro and get right down the most important question of the new film in the canon, American Reunion: how does the film hold up in terms of my ongoing exploration of its themes of authenticity versus artifice?

But first, a review of the film – Reunion is based around the 13-year high school reunion for the East Great Falls class (don't worry about why it's the 13^th, it's callously explained away with one line of dialogue, so let's not dwell too much on that one particular). Jim and Michelle have settled into a comfortable (read: sexless) marriage with kid, Kevin has a beard and a wife, but appears to be kind of restless with both, Oz has gone on to be a hammy sports show host and a former runner up on a “Dancing with the Stars” type show who is apparently discontent with his raunchy blond girlfriend, Finch has just returned from some sort of globe-trotting adventure, Stifler is a door stop intern at some sort of finance or law firm (maybe even both), Vicky has been living in New York since high school working at something (possible art related), Heather is now a doctor (I guess), Jessica is a lesbian, Milf Guy #2 (seriously how he is listed on IMDb) is organizing the reunion, Jim's Dad is now a widower, Stiffler's Mom is still a milf, I guess, and the Sherminator is divorced.

If that sounds like a lot, that's because it is, and while the formula of having multiple protagonists engaged in their own particular conquests worked in the first film quite well, here it feels a little too much. The difference is that while in Pie there were four protagonists all engaged in their own escapades, the goal was the same for all of them: lose your virginity. Here, everyone has a problem, but everyone's problem is different. (Though surprising, and also maybe refreshing, is a real dearth of sentimentality for “days past” - it's there mind you, but it's cooly minimal. And even more surprising, it's not Kevin dealing with it.) And the whole desire to get the entire band back together for the big finale (choke on this – the theatrical Pie releases now form a Quadrilogy), there's a few too many things going on here at once for the audience to feel concerned or even particularly interested in any of them, and as a result the things that should have some emotional resonance don't.

Now what I find unique about this series is how it exists in a fairly small category of films that explore what it's like for a group of friends to have grown up with from each other, to actually watch a friendship evolve. Other singular films have explored a moment, but this is a unique franchise where we can actually watch that evolution occur. This is particularly difficult for comedies, because a lot of that genre's function predicates on the maintenance of peculiar points-of-view or situations. Could you imagine a 40-Year-Old-Virgin 2? You'd have to get a new virgin. Just look at the backlash to Hangover 2; it is very hard to create a same character sequel without just retreading the same ground.

Now, on to my continuing argument regarding authenticity versus artifice: it's here. Oz is discontent obviously because he abandoned the “real” thing he had with Heather. His new life feels like a farce, because it so obviously hangs on him like a poorly tailored suit, particularly in the way he glumly reacts to people recognizing him for his “Dancing” appearance. Finch has been actually lying about his world traveling (which makes me wonder about the similar claims in Pie 2), a lie that actually lands him in jail. What is probably the most glaring evidence of technology being a crutch is when Stiffler tries the old our-car-broke-down-can-we-come-in-and-use-your-phone, and the wary homeowner inquires why the boys don't have cell phones. Stiffler's response is as succinct as could be desired: “The last time I did this cell phones didn't exist.”

Jim and Michelle are sexually frustrated because of their child, which isn't being honest to each other (in addition to the pre-title sequence built around watching porn on the internet and a bathtub water wand that I already discussed in my article about the trailer, they also try a little bondage as before the end of act II to spice things up). What should be the most important factor though, is the guys needing to be honest about where they are in life; they can't stay up drinking all night, they can't party and tussle with high school age kids, and they are grown up now (maybe the fact that this isn't really a big issue demonstrates how well matured everyone is?) so they can't really have shenanigans because responsibility, that's why. Hell I'm starting to think the screenwriters read my blog (Hey Jon and Hayden!), because the antagonistic high school kids show up on jet skis to antagonize people . But in a positive approval of a non-technology, Luddite stance, the fun, carefree, high-school Bacchanalia takes place at “the Falls”, an unstructured series of bonfires, beer coolers, and camp chairs gathered around a beach and waterfall. It's honestly gotten to the point where I can't think of a scene that doesn't bristle with a condemnation of technology. (I may have issues.)

Still this movie met all expectations, it just seems unfortunate that they were so eager to include a catch-up with everyone that the narrative suffered from an over-burdening. They had managed to bring everyone back for the second film, but it should be pointed out that Oz's story was practically non-existent, Finch and Kevin had very “B” stories, and Stifler didn't have an issue – he was just an instigator, a role that Seann William Scott excels at. The second and third films are really Jim's movies. We do get some nicely pleasant moments with the gang all back together, and this is a group of friends that I, for one, do enjoy spending time with.

American Pie v Technology: Reunion Trailer

As I've talked about recently, I believe that "American Pie" is modern anti-technology allegory, despite the fact that that universe has unfortunately dropped into the straight-to-video market, a new trailer for "American Reunion" recently released, meaning that there is another in-canon addition to the franchise. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEJn00VGV4s)

The trailer (in case you didn't watch) has a scene (first prediction: this scene will almost verbatim be the first few minutes of the final movie) wherein Jim and Michelle are now living happily as a married couple - Michelle retires to take a bath, while Jim stays up to work on his laptop. Of course the siren call of the Internet draws him to watch some porn on it, his son walks in, and he cannot turn off the moans emanated from the digital porn he's now holding. He stumbles into the bathroom to find his wife, also onanistically engaged with a vibrating shower head. These developments will come as no surprise to those familiar with my previous writings: the AP universe has always been at its heart a series about the eternal battle between artifice and sincerity. Here we have two healthy adults, self-engaging themselves sexually no more than ten feet from each other - of course they will be embarrassed by this, this universe always punishes using technology over authentic human interaction. (Second prediction: this will be followed by a scene where Jim talks to the Guys about his sexual insecurity, followed by him trying to get his groove back, and finally them reigniting the flames through the power of the Flute.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7qq0iJGSu0

This will be followed up by a more in depth critique after I watch "Reunion", but for now, we continue to ponder how the ramifications of a world that has become increasingly artificial. The last film came out in 2003, and since then we've had an explosion of Facebook and Twitter (allowing social interaction to occur without ever actually "seeing" anyone), Netflix and Hulu (allowing the consumption of mass media without gathering around a TV or movie theater), and smartphones (allowing us to ignore even casual interactions with, heaven forbid, strangers). The second trailer there is the longer one - wherein we learn that it's time for the ten year reunion for the class of East Great Falls High (nevermind their actual reunion should have been three years ago - don't worry about that). Jim and Michelle are married with a kid, Kevin has become a housedad, Oz and Stifler both appear to have become successful somethings (junior executives?), and Finch shows up as enigmatic as ever. (Also apparently Jim's mom died three years ago?)

What is key here is that a high school reunion was selected - the central motif of artifice versus sincerity can be rewritten as artifice versus innocence. In a lot of ways, the ten year reunion really marks a definitive end of innocence - the Guys get back together in their old home town, find a high school party (which they crash), but the main struggle here is that they are no longer even young adults - they're grown ups now. When you return home and see your former classmates, many of whom you have not seen in a full decade, you're suddenly hit by the resonance of seeing people you used to do, well, high school things with now professionals and parents. Responsible, settled into lives with significant others and jobs and children. This life now feels artificial, especially when sharply contrasted against their childhoods - but this is, for better or worse, life now. This existence only feels artificial, and it's a sad fact of life that we cease being innocent at a point. (Prediction three: Kevin will have the hardest time coping with this fact right before the reunion proper. Alternative prediction three: same as before, but the clinching moment will happen in the middle of the reunion.)

Ultimately the philosophical dilemma of the artifice (embarrassing premature videos, Finch and Stifler pretending to be each other in "Wedding", etc.) and innocence and truth (expressing love for someone by impersonating a mentally touched trombonist, realizing who your friends are etc.) in light of the more debauched behavior of the films leads us to the only conclusion available - these movies are about growing up, and the adventures we have along the way.

Prediction four: I will love this movie.

American Pie versus Technology, Part 3

(This is part 3 in a series - part one can be found in the archives over there (->) in November of 2010, and part 2 in January 2011.)

Kevin deserves special mention, largely due to the contributions made to the anti-tech argument made by his girlfriend Vicky. Kevin manages to win his girlfriend over with sexual techniques learned in the “Book of Love”, and there can seldom be a more non-modern tool than a paper book. Vicky on the other hand, has the hardest time losing her virginity – she is the only character who must be “talked into it” - and no surprise here, she is the one seen using the most technology. She is the only person in the first film seen driving (though early in “Pie”, Finch attempts a dramatic exit on a yellow Vespa, saying “Gentlemen, destiny awaits”, only to have his vehicle sputter underneath him. Clearly, he will travel to destiny on motorized transportation), and minutes later is seen using a vending machine, and a few scenes later again, is discussing manual stimulation with Jessica referring to it as “double clicking the mouse” - a direct reference to what is arguably the most powerful piece of technology today. Jessica even refers to Vicky's statement that her first time must be “the right time, the right place, the right moment”, by telling her it's just sex, and not a “space shuttle launch” - real modern rocket science! And her eventual realization that she wants to lose her virginity comes while she is doing homework with Jessica in a library, again paying homage to the power of the written academic word (and also possibly tying into the place where Kevin found the Book of Love, perhaps representing the purity of their previous physical interaction). Kevin does however benefit slightly from a modern staple – a phone call connects him with his brother in both “Pie” and “2”, and receives useful advice: the Book of Love in the former, and the idea to get a summer house in the latter. Why then does these phone calls actually result in success? Well the answer is that, while the phone calls do provide Kevin with useful information, it is incomplete. The Book does not get him laid, that honor falls to his being able to tell Vicky he loves her, and the lake house does not settle his concerns about his fading friendships, it is only a third act revelation about the friendship he has. Even at its best and most helpful, it would seem technology is still incomplete – it can only open the door, it is up to us to walk through it.

It would seem that technology is out to get anybody anywhere – Stifler's hotel reservation in Wedding is canceled by phone (in actuality at the hands of Finch off-screen, but only made possible by the lack of personal, face to face communication that a phone call provides). Additionally, his decimation of the flowers for Jim and Michelle's wedding in the same film is as a result of his incompetence in using technology as simple as a light switch (his flipping of random switches accidentally switches off the cooler keeping the flowers fresh). Stifler would seem to deserve special attention, however – he is three times embarrassed, none of which seem to have an underlying tech behind them: by drinking a cup of beer that Kevin has ejaculated into following fellatio with Vicky in the first film, by being peed on while wooing a freshman in the second film, and by being caught covered in cake and being licked in the crotch by dogs in the third film. This continual humiliation which does not come as a result of tech would seem to fly against my theory of the trilogy. But Stifler, if you will recall, is always presented as an outsider. He is popular, in that he hosts parties that are seemingly very popular, is capable of getting laid, however, he is always presented as being outside the primary group of friends of Jim, Kevin, Oz, and Finch (indeed at the end of the second act in “Pie”, Finch asks: “We were friends with Stifler?” Even these four do not see themselves as his friends, merely acquaintances.). Instead, Stifler has a number of people who watch his antics – he is seen entertaining the lacrosse team about Heather's possible sexual noises, gathering a crowd to make fun of Finch as he leaves the girl's restroom after putting laxative in his coffee, and uniting his football team in “Wedding” to make fun of Jim, but all of his bluster with these large groups of friends are largely one way – him telling jokes and other people watching and laughing. In this respect, Stifler is more like a blogger, tweeter, or message boarder. He has no real friends, only “followers”, in today's parlance. He is punished because he actually is technology, in a metaphorical sense. He chases after the kind of instant, self-gratification that has become so common in our interconnected society, and he is punished for it, until he begins to make real friends in “2”, and finally a worthy mate in “Wedding”. The first two films both feature a tracking shot following Stifler from room to room as he says hello to the respective party-goers, but he has no meaningful conversations with anyone he talks to, instead just resorting to witty, snippy, and snide comments – a sort of wiki-walk/commment hybrid.

If anything, the films make the statement that modern technology stands in the way of real intimacy and real relationships – though at the time the internet was limited, today it is possible to have an entire life on-line with seldom having to venture into the real world. “Pie” seems to take the stance that real life is better – for example, even though Jim is a stammering idiot around Nadia, she still has a thing for him. The films tell us one simple thing – people who use technology are made the worse for it, and those that choose a simpler, more social experience are made the better for it. In order to grow up, you gotta unplug, go out, and live a little.

American Pie versus Technology, Part 2

(This is part 2 in a series - part one can be found in the archives over there (->) in November of 2010.)

The other characters suffer similar fates – Oz and Heather twice attempt phone sex in the sequel, and fail miserably both times. Oz in fact suffers an early embarrassment when he attempts to bed a “college girl” in Pie, this time a car serving as the modern chariot for his unavoidable failure. The sexual conquests of Chuck Sherman (whose alleged encounter with a woman starts the plot) are eventually unraveled over a speaker system at the school prom. (On a non-technology point, I would like to point out that Sherman suffers for a perceived slight that is in no way under his control; when leaving the morning following his assumed de-flowering, Sherman only says “It was just my time. It was just my time”. In fact, it is the four friends who make the logic jump that he has lost his virginity, a rumor that comes back to get him in the end. Granted, he does put on a mature show for the friends now, but he never explicitly says he is no longer a virgin.) Sherman is in effect a walking paradigm of anti-technology – he is the most awkward and geekiest of all the characters, and he constantly refers to himself as the Shermanator, a reference to the futuristic robotic killing machine from the “Terminator” franchise. That he does eventually get Nadia in the sequel comes only after he has a self realization at the end party. Though his last lines still reference his robotic alter-ego, he now has achieved an understanding about his place with technology. That the four friends study Latin only furthers the argument, Latin being so old a language that it is now “dead” - no more advancement can occur for it.

Oz and Finch both in fact represent how the abandonment of tech leads to success. Oz wins Heather's heart (and arguably finds himself) by joining the Jazz Choir – an activity that uses absolutely no tools or equipment of any kind. Oz's big moment, has him shedding his modern trappings of his lacrosse gear, so he can go sing “Do you believe in magic?” with Heather; magic substituting quite perfectly as a romantic notion that eschews scientific, modern reasoning. Finch, similarly, unites with Stifler's Mom by discussing the finer points of Scotch Whiskey (itself representing sophistication and refinement – two things that often run counter to modern trappings and technobabble) in the first film, and then in the second through the use of “tantric sex” – Tantra having roots in the early centuries of the common era, well preceding the industrial revolution. Finch, of course, has a problem going to the bathroom in public restrooms, saying: “Have you seen the facilities at this school?” Finch here has anxiety likely due to a phobia of cleanliness (or a lack thereof), likely specifically due to germs. In fact, had science not developed to the point of knowing about microscopic germs, Finch might very well not have any fear at all (thanks, Science). His approach to losing his virginity is to pay Jessica to spread rumors about his sexual prowess, which in itself is not a modern device, but is an artificial life – effectively foreshadowing today's “Second Life” (2003) or “World of Warcraft” (2004). In the same metaphorical sense, Jim having sex with an apple pie in the original is again representative of the failure of trying intimacy with something other than a living, flesh and blood human being, the pie standing in for the sex dolls and Fleshlights that seem to permeate today. Jessica on the other hand seems only to enjoy the simple pleasures, it her personable social connections that allow Finch's rumors to spread, and her payment for the task is spent on a hip flask and earrings, delightfully simple trappings.

Jim's first, Michelle, is a walking paradigm of how good life can be when one eschews technology – she talks constantly about band camp, which we discover is in fact “90% sex ed”, which is further detailed in two ways – band camp is in actuality a camp – an isolated, woodsy setting which immediately brings to mind the idea of living as the animals did – in the wild. Additionally, since it is for band geeks – the only equipment available are band instruments, which have had few, if any technological advances made on them in over 100 years. Jim, in proving his love for Michelle (the realization coming in a lighthouse, which while being a romantic set piece, is also a form of navigational technology that has largely become obsolete in the age of GPS) does so in what is an embarrassing situation, (ineptly) playing trombone, but his success can be assured because he is wielding an instrument that is a pre-industrial revolution throwback (he's not even playing it well – he clearly doesn't even need good musicianship). His connection is additionally underscored by the soundtrack - “If I Could Be Like That”, by 3 Doors Down, whose title seems to yearn for a return to simpler, past times. (On the subject of music, it should be noted that the song that plays during Pie when the boys lose their respective virginities (Big Runga's “Sway”) contains the chorus lyrics “Say you'll stay/Don't come and go”. Taken in the analytical framework of an anti-technology stance, one can't help but draw a parallel to rapid march of technology, with what seems to be a new technological gizmo replacing the last every month. This might be a bit of a stretch, but is worth noting nonetheless.) In fact, if anything, the films seem to promote any simpler act as being one that is more fun, a point that is especially underlined in the second film, when the entire impetus for their renting a beach house to have one last memorable summer with all the friends.

American Pie versus Technology, Part 1

The late 90's were an interesting time for the Internet – it was no longer a novelty, but it hadn't yet found its niche; most of the users of the internet found that it was useful for emails and pictures of naked women (remember that back in these days, few, if any, people had anything more than a 56k connection, so anything more than pictures or very short videos was largely out the question) and little else. Back in 1999, if you will remember, was the age before YouTube (not until 2005), Facebook (2004), MySpace (2003), or even Friendster (2002). Even Napster wasn't operational until 1999, so the years prior were a very untested time for the internet. Very little content had yet to be ported onto the web, for example it is estimated that in 2007 YouTube consumed as much bandwith as the entire internet in 2000. Even movies hadn't really decided what to make of the internet – only a handful of films even used the internet: “The Net” (1995) and “Hackers” (1996) being the more notable ones. The former envisioned a world where we were so disconnected by our digital selves that others could substitute themselves in for us, and a powerful computer program allows a well resourced group to control information. The latter promotes the web as a wild west, where information is the weapon, and a few rebellious hackers can use it to help protect the world from a powerful corporation. Both films extol information and the web that harbors it as a powerful tool, but in both cases any attempts to pigeon hole it as whole cloth bad, are countered by the fact that the internet is eventually used to win the day. Indeed, tech up to this point is merely a tool like a gun or a bomb – in the right hands, deadly, but useful when used responsibly.

It would therefore seem unlikely to find a powerful anti-technology statement in the film “American Pie” (1999) - but the film is surprisingly, and subtly, a condemnation of the permeation of technology in our lives. (That the film came out in the same year as three movies that all took stabs at the encroachment of technology and the potential for being dominated by it - “The Matrix” (1999), “Existenz” (1999), and “The Thirteenth Floor” (1999) shows that clearly by this point we were prepared to make statements about technology and networks and their power.) Indeed the three entries in the trilogy - “Pie”, “American Pie 2” (2001), and “American Wedding” (2003), take a staunchly anti-technology stance, more so than any other film previous or since. “Pie” and its successors, in fact take a far more Luddist view of technology than even “The Matrix”.

Every instance of technology that appears in the film (and the series as a whole) is associated with embarrassment and humiliation – even from the opening shot: a lone Jim sits in his bedroom, attempting to masturbate to scrambled-cable porn, he is quickly discovered by his parents – as a direct result of his attempts to use technology over bedding a non-digital woman. Indeed, Jim suffers the most as a result of his interactions with technology: during the first montage, where the four friends are organizing to lose their virginity, Jim uses an internet dating profile to get a prom date, and receives no responses. And of course, during the longest sequence in the film, Jim sets up a web feed to catch video of Nadia undressing is his bedroom, which then leads to his eventual embarrassment as he unknowingly sends the link to his entire school (the undressing ultimately becomes a chance sexual encounter with Nadia when Jim enters the room where she is undressed) – exponentially increasing his damage at using technology. The filmmakers make such a statement about how wrong this use of technology is that it is brought up by a high school party-goer in the beginning of the second film; indeed this incident has followed Jim well beyond his first year in college.

Similarly, the centerpiece sequence in the film's sequel is set around an increasing intimacy scene with two (alleged) lesbians, that again becomes broadcast, this time over walkie talkies. Another incident in the second act of the sequel comes as an attack from tech again – while watching a porn VHS, Jim inadvertently super-glues himself to himself while masturbating. In the opening scene of “Wedding”, Jim mishandles a wedding proposal, which leads to him receiving fellatio from Michelle in a crowded restaurant – which while not a direct result of tech, is notable because just before this act, Jim receives a phone call on his cell phone from his father, and now this highly common tech serves as a harbinger, signaling the embarrassment to come. And again in the third entry, he uses an electric shaver to shave his pubic region and peppers most of the wedding planning crew with his discarded pubic hair – becoming increasingly the victim of increasingly simpler technology. In fact, it may be his over-reliance on technology that makes him suffer the most; in an early scene in the original he is explaining to a fellow party-goer that he should be able to talk to women, because he got a “1600 on the SAT's”. Now while the SAT itself is arguably not a technological achievement, it represents a modern advancement into standardized testing and evaluation. He should know better, because in the AP universe, technology may not be mortal or even morbid, but it is the cause of humiliation. Even a startlingly good score does not help him lose his virginity or with his capacity to even talk to women. His excellent score on a modern evaluative method does not equal good social grace.