Anomalisa (2015) is an intricately animated film written
by Charlie Kaufman, director of existentially ambiguous works such as Being
John Malkovich (1999) and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004).
Based on Kaufman’s 2005 stage-play, it follows Michael, a self-help guru, on a
weekend business trip, during which he tries to reconcile the mundane reality
of his everyday life with his deep desire for something more. Along the way he
encounters the woman of this dreams, Lisa, referred to in the film’s title.
The film starts out
with Michael immersed in an oppressive world of utterly banal chitchat, awkward
phone calls, and pointless speeches. It is a bleak, monotonous
universe—literally, since nearly every other character speaks with the same
flattened voice. The boredom and despair are palpable, punctuated by the main
character’s frustrated refrain of “fuck, fuck, fuck!” In the midst of this workaday
prison Michael hears a singular voice, Lisa, to whom he is overwhelmingly
attracted and for whom he is prepared to renounce everything. After a short,
blissful sexual union, Michael’s redemption begins rapidly to unravel. First,
with a nightmare, and then, with his mental breakdown while delivering a much
anticipated speech. In the end Michael and “Anomalisa”, as he comes calls her,
part ways and he returns to his depressive world of pointless interactions and
alienation.
What’s really going on
here? It seems to me that the film can be read, in typically Kaufman fashion,
as an existential, even spiritual, allegory. In fact, I would go further to
suggest that Anomalisa is a kind of “gnostic” parable. According to the
ancient gnostic myth, the world is not the product of a benevolent creator, but
has in fact been fashioned by an evil cosmic ruler who works to imprison human
beings in materialism and ignorance. Salvation is achieved only when a
messenger from the heavenly realm reminds humanity about its true, enlightened
nature. In Anomalisa, the characters exist in a cold, mechanistic
universe. It is quite literally a “puppet show”, given the production
techniques employed. As such, each character navigates the world from behind a
detachable mask that conceals their true, authentic selves. Michael “Stone”
appears cold and lifeless as he makes his way through this lower world. It is
only when he perceives the celestial voice of Lisa that he is awakened from his
ignorant stupor. After all, she later claims that “Anomalisa” means “goddess of
heaven” in Japanese. Enlightened by his encounter with this divine messenger,
the banal fictions of social interactions and soul-destroying customer service
are shattered by glimpse of the true reality—a grim and chaotic world
ruled by a war criminal president. Originally written during the Iraq War, the
allusion is obvious. Unfortunately, the horror of this unmasking of reality is
too much for Michael and he retreats back to the comfortable and familiar
fictions of his work-a-day life.
The film also has
echoes of Orwell’s 1984, in which the protagonist Winston briefly escapes his
ideological prison through a love affair with Julia. Only then to be
reconditioned by Big Brother to embrace the great lies that underpin society.
Ultimate slavery is preferred after a taste of real freedom. Once again the
political allegory is obvious enough.
All in all, Anomalisa
is a fascinating and finely crafted film that offers much for on-going
thought and reflection.
