POP FILTER

VS

THE CLASSICS OF 1978

SAME TIME, NEXT YEAR

 

Do you know why you haven’t heard of this film? Because it’s unenjoyable, that’s why.  It’s a problem when people go into “classic” movies with a bias. The bias is easy to understand: if it’s been around since 1978 and you’ve never heard of it, the film is already facing an uphill battle. It’s a personal problem that lacks reason, but regardless, this film didn’t make it to younger generations for valid reasons.

 

This should have been a two-man stage play that, for reasons unknown, was made into a film instead. The only two actors seen for 98% of the film are Ellen Burstyn as “Doris” and Alan Alda as “George.” Throughout the film they directly state their feelings and emotions, lacking subtlety in a way that makes Battleship seem Oscar-worthy. It’s not the actors’ fault that they must breeze by opportunities for subtext; it’s that they have 26 years of emotional, intellectual, and spiritual changes to convey in under two hours. It’s a difficult task, and a frustrating one to watch.

 

Same Time, Next Year would have been enjoyable if it was a two-man play. That way, the cheap jokes, poorly designed set, and drastic costume changes would not only have been forgiven, but embraced as part of the charm that is theatre! But that’s the salient factor: Same Time, Next Year wasn’t hastily thrown together in a few hours; they filmed this and spent a year in editing. They did multiple takes in front of a camera. They weren’t performing with a live audience. ST, NY only provokes the part of your mind that calls for reason. The viewing of this film is similar to being in a nightmare you can’t wake yourself up from. You know that you’re asleep and that everything you’re experiencing isn’t real, but you must suffer all the same.

 

After a lovely little intro song, two strangers meet at a bed and breakfast in 1951. George wakes up naked in bed, tries to slip out undetected, fails, and confesses his love to Dorothy. Oh, her name isn’t Dorothy, its Doris. Doris was expecting a one night stand so she didn’t feel the need to correct him when he misused her name the night before.  We find out that they are both married. Here is where the film starts a slow downward descent; George starts yelling a lot and continues to express his guilt. She asks, “Are you Jewish? … Then why do you feel so guilty?” 12 minutes into the film and it’s nothing but a failed sitcom pilot. It might have been less tedious to watch if Ellen Burstyn had whiter teeth. Gross.

 

Then, a bright light! Something to redeem the 12 minute shit storm you’ve endured: a callback joke to his broken watch. It was funny. It was really funny, and it started to feel like this film was just a sitcom-turned-movie with a rocky start. They decide to share a good story and a bad story about their husband and wife. Doris explains the bad:

Doris: “He said his time in the army was the best years of his life.”

George: “What’s wrong with that? A lot of guys say that about the service.”

Doris: “He spent four years in the army and three of them were in a Japanese prison camp!”

 

Okay, so the film had a rough start, but it has legs. These jokes, as sitcom-cheesy as they may be, are worth being told. Today’s viewer just has to acclimate to 1978’s standard of comedy. Until you realize that what you thought were legs are just rickety twigs, totally incapable of carrying this “edgy” romantic comedy.  1951 to 1977 translates to people saying “I feel guilty” wearing different costumes. “I feel guilty” dressed like Marilyn Monroe. “I feel guilty” wearing a savvy business suit. “I feel guilty” dressed like a hippie. When they decide to talk about emotions other than guilt, they use subtly equivalent to a ninja with Tourette’s Syndrome.

 

The movie was too fast paced. In order to show the time lapse, they are forced to sum up emotions quickly and jump five years ahead, and the viewer is supposed to believe that their character changes drastically every five years instead gradually, from year to year.

1961 – George can’t get his peepee to work, she’s pregnant, let the awkwardness continue! Oh, she’s going to have a baby at the bed and breakfast? Awesome.

1966 — Political differences! Let’s just use the Bomb! My son was killed and now I hate foreigners! I hate my life! Rawr! ::cry together::

1972 – Doris has marriage problems and George fixes it. Yawn again.

1977 — Things are happening? No one cares anymore, can this movie be over, please?

 

Again, it’s difficult to convey the range of emotions and ideals that these characters go through. That’s why there aren’t many movies that try to show how a character develops over two decades. And those characters certainly aren’t going to experience the variance of standards the way these two have had to. You are never immersed in the story or characters.Instead, you are constantly distracted and unable to relate.

 

So, it is 1978, and we understand that having a film add a silver-lining to infidelity can’t be unleashed upon the world without playing to the lowest common denominator. The filmmakers need to constantly reinforce the idea that the characters feel guilty because cheating on your spouse is wrong in order to tell a story about two people who change over 26 years. We understand that it was done to appease a few people in order to sell more tickets at the box office and to avoid a religious backlash in the papers. But when they did that, they pissed off everyone that had enough intelligence to put morality aside and understand that you’re telling a story about two people…except you weren’t telling a story about two people, you were using those people to talk about what society was going through for the past 26 years. So you don’t have a story, you have a summary. -TA