Actors see many dull, conventional scripts; so it's understandable when they warm to something
that challenges them with a character they haven't been offered a hundred times before.
Unfortunately, quirkiness on the page doesn't necessarily translate into an engaging film. The
level of directorial and editorial skill required to pull off something unconventional is usually
greater than that needed to spin a familiar yarn, and Ceremony is a classic demonstration. The
film is essentially a four-character drama, played out over a single weekend, and the biggest
challenge for a filmmaker is that every one of the characters is either a jerk or a mess (or both).
It's certainly possible to engage an audience with such a cast of dramatis personae -- comedies
do it all the time -- but it takes a sure directorial hand, and writer-director Max Winkler, making
his feature film debut, doesn't yet have one. Ceremony strains under the weight of its
accumulating character tics, and though its talented cast succeeds in making something of the
weirdness by the end of the film, most viewers probably won't last that long.
Winkler has described Ceremony as a "reverse coming-of-age tale", in which a boy who's trying
to pretend that he's a man discovers that he's just a boy. I suppose that's as good a description as
any of Sam Davis (Michael Angarano), an aspiring writer of children's books -- I think. It's never
entirely clear whether Sam has published anything or, indeed, what he lives on. As the film
opens, he's giving a reading (if you can call it that) from his latest work at a sparsely attended (if
you can call it that) session at a Manhattan library. The story is a grim (or Grimm) tale involving
a diver, a mermaid and lots of blood and death. It seems entirely inappropriate for children, but
Sam's friend, Marshall (Reece Thompson), loves it. Or maybe he just loves seeing Sam again,
since they've been out of touch for almost a year, and Marshall doesn't understand why.
Marshall was the victim of a vicious mugging, and while he's recovered from the physical
injuries, he remains unsure of himself and uncomfortable in crowds. Venturing out to see Sam
was a big step, and so Marshall is thrilled when he's able to persuade Sam to let him tag along on
a weekend getaway to what Sam describes as a luxury Long Island resort. In reality, Sam has
preyed on Marshall's neediness to trick him into checking into a fleabag tourist trap called the
Little Mohican at off-season rates, because it just happens to be near the palatial home of
successful documentary filmmaker Whit Coutell (Lee Pace). Why Whit Coutell? Because he's
getting married that weekend to a woman named Zoe (Uma Thurman), and Sam is in love with
her. From his nearby perch at the Little Mohican, Sam plans to crash the wedding and break it
up.
This sounds like a classic comedy plot, one that's served as the foundation for successful films
from The Philadelphia Story to My Best Friend's Wedding. Certainly the marketing for
Ceremony played up this angle, because otherwise what was there? But the classic plot requires
the bride and the romantic meddler to have some sort of relationship, and Zoe and Sam barely do.
Indeed, Zoe herself is barely a character for much of the film. If she weren't played by an actress
with Uma Thurman's looks and presence, she might vanish from the screen. Over the course of
the film, Zoe's and Sam's prior history (if you can all it that) is gradually revealed, and it
becomes clear that much of what has motivated Sam to this impulsive adventure exists only in
his head (and on the pages of his latest, unpublishable children's book). And whatever Winkler
may say the film was about, its focus gradually shifts from Sam to Zoe, because the way he
discovers he's only playing at being adult is by convincing her that she, while much older, is
doing the same thing.
Whoever and whatever Zoe is, she's consistent in the type of male she attracts; both her official
groom and her would-be suitor are monsters of self-absorption who use other people as mirrors.
The only difference between them is a matter of scale. Sam ignored his friend Marshall for the
entire time he was recovering from his injuries, but as soon as he needed to affect a suave and
confident exterior to infiltrate the festivities, he lured Marshall out of his convalescence to act as
sidekick. Whit Coutell has made enough money as a documentary filmmaker (and won an Oscar,
as he never tires of reminding everyone) to own a mansion where he can invite dozens of
"friends" to celebrate his birthday, but they're really just multiple Marshalls. And as long as
they'll all be there for the weekend acting as Whit's sycophants, why not have a wedding too? In
Whit's world, Zoe gives new meaning to the term "trophy wife". Maybe that's why her brother,
Teddy (Jake M. Johnson), wanders around the entire weekend soused and bitter. He's the only
one not worshiping at the Cult of Whit. (It's Teddy who invites Sam and Marshall to crash the
party.)
One of the biggest challenges with eccentric characters is introducing them to the audience in a
way that makes their eccentricity understandable enough for viewers to at least suspend judgment
long enough for the story to get underway. Ceremony doesn't make this effort (or doesn't make it
enough) with three main characters, Sam, Marshall and Zoe, all of whom are indistinct and none
of whom are leading their regular lives when we first encounter them. Whit is the only main
character in his natural element, and the film spends most of its running time making him
obnoxious and setting him up for a fall. Lee Pace, who was so effectively reserved as Pushing
Daisies' piemaker, demonstrates equal skill at playing a jabbering egomaniac. Whit knows why
Sam has crashed the wedding, but he's so supremely self-confident that he treats Sam like a
yapping puppy dog without much of a yap. However, when the credits roll -- after more than a
few distractions, including subplots that actually seem more promising than the main event (e.g.,
a possible wake-up call for Marshall and some interesting business with the bridesmaids) -- it's
possible that Whit may have miscalculated. I'm not entirely sure. As seems to be his preference
as a director, Winkler left it unresolved.
Whatever problems the film may have, there's nothing to fault in Magnolia's Blu-ray
presentation, which reflects their usual standard of work. The 1080p, AVC-encoded image is
sharp, clean and detailed, with solid blacks, vivid but not overly saturated colors and just a hint
of natural grain. While not digitally acquired, the image has all the virtues for Blu-ray of having
been post-processed on a digital intermediate without excess fussiness or stylization. As is
typical for such products, there were no signs of high-frequency filtering, transfer-induced
ringing or other inappropriate digital tampering, nor did I spot any compression artifacts.
The DTS lossless track is fairly restrained in its use of the surrounds, which are limited to
environmental ambiance. Dialogue is clear, and the lively score by Eric D. Johnson (who recently
co-scored Our Idiot Brother) is well-represented.
Deleted Scenes (SD; 2.35:1, non-enhanced; 2:11): There are three brief scenes. The
longest and most interesting pays off the numerous early appearances of the maid at
Whit's house.
Extended Scene (SD; 2.35:1, non-enhanced; 2:37): A longer version of Teddy's toast to
Zoe and Whit.
Making of Ceremony (SD; 1.78:1, enhanced ; 21:47): This series of interviews with
Winkler, Thurman and Angarano is longer and more intense than the usual EPK, but it's
surprisingly uninformative. Instead of offering insights into the material or their working
methods, the participants essentially sing each other's praises, at length.
Max Winkler Makes Ceremony (SD; 1.78:1, enhanced; 8:18): Snippets of interviews
with Winkler at various points during production, occasionally in split screen with on-set
footage depicting what Winkler is describing. Producer Matt Spicer and Angarano are
also interviewed.
Behind the Scenes Footage (SD; 1.78:1, enhanced; 7:17): Cast and crew shoot the film's
climactic outdoor scene.
HDNet: A Look at Ceremony (SD; 2.35:1, enhanced; 4:36): This is the usual HDNet
promotional piece for a Magnolia film, featuring interviews with Winkler and Angarano.
A Year in a Tent - A Film by Whit Coutell (SD; 1.78:1, enhanced; 3:58): Whit's
ludicrous documentary, of which only short glimpses are seen in the film.
Also from Magnolia: At startup, the disc plays trailers in hi-def for Vanishing on 7th
Street, Black Death, Assassins, Rubber and HDNet and HDNet Movies. These can be
skipped with the top menu button and are also available from the features menu.
Winkler, who is the son of Henry Winkler, clearly has ambition and he is not without talent, but
he needs a producer, a co-writer or an editor (or all three) who will push him harder on narrative
clarity. Otherwise, he risks being dismissed as a Wes Anderson wanna-be, although I suspect
that, deep down, Winkler's voice is completely different, if he can only get it out. The Blu-ray is
technically superior, but I can't recommend Ceremony.
On June 21, 2011, Magnolia Home Entertainment brings the romantic comedy Ceremony to Blu-ray. Starring Michael Angarano (Almost Famous) and Uma Thurman (Pulp Fiction, Mad Dog and Glory), Ceremony tells the story of a young man obsessed with derailing his older ...
