Following impressive runs as Johnny Carson’s head
writer from 1969 to 1970 and as Woody Allen’s writing partner for Sleeper (1973), Annie Hall (1977), and Manhattan
(1979), Marshall Brickman launched a brief and only moderately successful
directorial career with the sci-fi satire Simon.
Starring Alan Arkin in a role well-suited to the actor’s unique gifts, the
movie bears obvious traces of Allen’s cinematic style, although Brickman is
unable to match his former collaborator on the levels of hilarity, insight, and
substance. Simon is mostly
sorta-funny and sorta-smart, so the film is only sorta-memorable. Seen today,
the movie loses even more potency because so many of the jokes are directed at
the extremes of hippy-dippy ’70s scientists—for instance, the picture’s main
villain evokes turtleneck-loving ’70s science star Carl Sagan, who deserves
better than to be used as the visual reference for a nefarious character.
Borrowing a gimmick that Allen used many times, the movie opens like a
documentary, introducing viewers to the great minds at the Institute for
Advanced Concepts, a think tank funded with seemingly unlimited government
money. Under the supervision of Dr. Carl Becker (Austin Pendleton), the
eggheads at the institute contrive experiments for amusement rather than for
higher purposes, for instance skewing Nielson ratings to help the variety show Donnie & Marie become a hit. One
day, the scientists decide it would be fun to convince the American public than
an alien lives among them. After running data, they identify college professor
Simon Mendelssohn (Arkin) as the individual most susceptible to the suggestion
that he’s from another planet. Mendelssohn is a low-rent theorist whose desire
to make an important social contribution far exceeds his talents, so he’s
flattered when he’s invited to join the think tank—and he’s thrilled when
Becker and his cronies reveal their “discovery” of Mendelssohn’s true origins. Later,
once the eggheads present Mendelssohn to the world, Simon goes rogue, using
pirate-broadcasting technology to share his supposedly extraterrestrial wisdom
with the people of the world.
Brickman, who cowrote the film’s original story
with Thomas Baum, can’t figure out where to take the outlandish concept, and he
can’t sustain a consistent tone. Although the movie never slides into full-on stupidity,
various broad jokes diminish the clever gags by association. It’s also
distracting that cinematographer Adam Holender so obviously mimics the
shadow-drenched shooting style of master DP Gordon Willis, who shot Annie Hall and Manhattan. Arkin scores a few wonderfully silly moments,
Pendleton’s performance is quite sly, and leading lady Judy Graubart, as
Mendelssohn’s rightfully skeptical girlfriend, is charming in a neurotic sort
of way. (The great Madeline Kahn is wasted in a too-small supporting role.) Yet
the real problem with the picture is that it’s hard to care what happens to the
main character, who toggles between obnoxious and pathetic.
Simon:
FUNKY
3 comments:
Honestly, I thought this was the stupidest movie I had ever seen back then. I was a huge Alan Arkin fan and this was what derailed that and in retrospect pretty much derailed his career for years as well.
Strangely, I had the same recollection of the film, and dreaded revisiting it for that reason. It's a misfire, no question, and the physical-comedy scenes we both remember are indeed quite stupid, but overall, it's much more respectable than my memory suggested. As I was all of 11 years old when I saw it the first time, chances are 90% of the jokes went over my head way back when.
And in terms of defining the outer edge of how unfunny sci-fi comedies could be, the Jerry Lewis atrocity "Slapstick of Another Kind" came along a few years later. I recall being almost physically uncomfortable watching that thing because it was so screamingly awful.
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