The Big Screen: American Hustle

A sticky note with post ideas is sitting on my desk. I hoped to use it to revitalize my blogging efforts but that has not happened. Yet. I will get to each idea in time, hopefully, but blogging has taken a back seat recently. And that’s…okay. I have other things on my mind and blogging is cyclical.

Anyway…

My interest in all things seventies is, I assume, well-documented in other posts. Though I planned to see American Hustle anyway because of its setting in the late-seventies, an enthusiastic recommendation from Bobblehead and the film’s recent plaudits made it imperative. I was very eager to see if the movie could live up to all the hype. Was it “vividly seventies” as Argo was supposed to be? Was it worthy of Best Picture immortality?

Without a doubt, American Hustle is a good movie. Though I am shamefully unfamiliar with the actual Abscam sting operation fictionalized in the movie (the film begins with a disclaimer: “Some of this actually happened”), the story feels organic and the characters and setting authentic and believable. The acting is also stellar; the spectacular performances of Amy Adams and Jennifer Lawrence overshadow those of Christian Bale and Bradley Cooper. (Cooper is convincing, but it seems to me that he plays the exact same character in all his movies. He always plays a fashionably scruffy man who is crafty, snide, snarky, harsh, and provocative.) Jeremy Renner’s role as the well-meaning and kind-hearted mayor is endearing and heartbreaking. Adams is sexy and stunning even in hair curlers and captures the subtle and confident femininity of the era.

Before heading to the theater, I spoke with my dad on the phone. He had seen the movie a week or so before and told me, “It’s slow at first but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Figure it out, eh? I accepted that as a challenge and watched the movie closely to ensure that I would “figure it out” at the end. I analyzed everything, trying to detect covert motives and anticipate upcoming twists; I tried to figure out who was telling the truth, who was truly hustling who, and wondered if I had missed any key details. However, it was all for naught because there really was nothing to “figure out”; I ended up over thinking and needlessly confusing myself. I suppose there is at least one revealing detail that requires a very keen eye, but it is disclosed openly toward the end of the film. In that sense, American Hustle is not a movie one has to have watched previously to appreciate and understand. (I have only seen it once, of course, so perhaps subtle and tasty details will emerge in a second viewing.)

In certain ways, American Hustle seemed to ape Goodfellas and Casino, and Robert De Niro’s unexpected presence as a Mafioso added a palpable parallel. The sporadic narration from Bale, Adams, and Cooper’s characters also lent to a borderline sense of cliché. The movie is not groundbreaking or original but it gets the job done and is entertaining and even funny at times. Despite the fact other audience members were in stitches at certain points, I did not think anything was hilarious; to me, those scenes were lighthearted and fun, a nice emotional break from the tense and tight plot (and my overanalysis).

Also sporadic was an unexplained heart condition afflicting Bale’s character. Unless I missed something (which probably happened despite my focus), his heart condition suddenly reveals itself over halfway through the film. Bale is seen sneaking pills at some point early on, but there is no context. The next time his pill box comes into play is when he has some kind of episode. The heart condition pops up again toward the end and seems more like a convenient segue than anything else.

One thing I really liked about American Hustle: there was no graphic violence. It was a pleasure watching a movie without gratuitous gore.

Much like Bobblehead, I have not watched every seventies period piece out there but I have seen what I presume are the most notable and authentic. Comparing them to movies dating from the seventies is like comparing apples to oranges, but I think a certain level of historical accuracy and believability can be achieved. (I recently re-watched The Paper Chase and The China Syndrome, two movies that are undeniably emblematic of the seventies because they were made in the seventies.) I measure all seventies period pieces with Boogie Nights and Dazed and Confused, both of which seem authentic to a T and are not obnoxious and garish when it comes to historical accuracy. There are parts of each where they may try too hard and call attention to themselves as period pieces, but neither is insincere or That ‘70s Show self-evident. (Ironically, self-evidence seems to work against period movies but serves as an endearing hallmark for That ‘70s Show. I suppose genre has a lot to do with it, too.) Both go all out and so does American Hustle. Much like Bobblehead wrote in his review, the storyline is timeless and at a certain point I forgot the movie was set in the seventies. Nothing about the film’s setting is showy, distractingly glaring, or stereotypically corny and I appreciated that a lot. There is a scene at Studio 54, which seemed a little too much, but I was able to roll with it. (The club was, after all, iconic even then.) As best as I can tell, the film seems to get all the period details correct except one thing. In one scene, Bale’s character opens a safe and retrieves a gun and a stack of $100 bills. Though the scene supposedly takes place in 1978, the $100 bills shown are those featuring the current design introduced in 1996. It is a minor oversight, but overall the film thoroughly tickled my seventies fascination.

So is American Hustle “vividly seventies” unlike Argo? Yes. Is it worthy of Best Picture immortality? I am not the best judge of that since I rarely see movies in the theater anymore, but I will say it is better than Argo.