I had a memorable encounter with the brilliant screenwriter Charlie Kaufman last fall, at an early screening of his directorial debut, “Synecdoche, New York.” A Kaufman film is guaranteed to provide an exhausting amount of intellectual fodder, and as the film ended, I scribbled furiously in my notebook. Then I took a glance to my right. Across the aisle was the man himself, a hand placed pensively under his chin, as he stared directly into my eyes.

It was without a doubt the most incredible and terrifying moment of my life. In those few seconds, I could see the way Kaufman’s mind worked—he was trying to figure me out (why was I writing?) and piecing together what I thought of his film (what was I writing about?). It is this intensely analytic quality that also characterizes a Kaufman film, and defines it as something formidable, otherworldly and always fascinating.

Kaufman is fixated on picking apart real-life situations and revealing the strange and sometimes self-destructive undercurrent that drives people forward. In “Adaptation” (Spike Jonze, 2002), a meta-filmic work about the struggles involved in writing a script, Kaufman questions the artist’s contradictory role: He is responsible for “tying all of history together,” yet he must also create a focused, passionate work in order for others to consider it memorable.

This is quite a cross to bear, but Kaufman isn’t afraid to dive into the fray: if a film of his seems messy at first glance, that is because a person and his relationships with other people are messy. In “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” (Michel Gondry, 2004), Jim Carrey’s character Joel undergoes a procedure that erases all of his memories with his ex-girlfriend (Kate Winslet) because those memories are too painful for him. But as Joel rediscovers fragments of his memory, he realizes that every moment of his life—whether it were exciting, boring or painful—has contributed to who he is in the present. As Joel’s memories and the film’s narrative and visual structure collapse, he comes to a new realization: Beauty is tucked into seemingly mundane moments.

All of Kaufman’s films have a similar structure: The narratives seem to disappear as viewers are completely immersed in the protagonists’ perceptions of their worlds. Then the films snap into place, creating a compelling and unforgettable synthesis of ideas. Kaufman’s scripts are intellectually audacious, but he is also a master at conceiving witty set pieces. Who could forget the collapsing house on the beach in “Eternal Sunshine”; the “Malkovich! Malkovich! Malkovich!” sequence in “Being John Malkovich” (Spike Jonze, 1999); or the climax of “Adaptation,” in which Meryl Streep, with a pistol in hand, chases Nicolas Cage through the Everglades?

The directors Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry, both of whom began their careers making music videos and commercials, are especially instrumental in these sequences’ success; they are imaginatively planned and exceptionally well staged and shot. Jonze’s and Gondry’s collaborations with Kaufman helped propel them from music video directors to first-rate feature-length filmmakers. Gondry shared an Oscar with Kaufman for Best Original Screenplay in 2004; Jonze was nominated for an Oscar for Best Director in 1999, and continues to make compelling work with this year’s “Where the Wild Things Are.”

After “Eternal Sunshine,” Kaufman tried his hand at directing and created his most ambitious film yet: “Synecdoche, New York,” about a playwright whose devotion to his craft consumes everything else that matters to him. It is a fine film for a directorial debut, but without the deft guidance from Gondry or Jonze, the conceit collapses under its own weight. Like in Kaufman’s other films, the narrative framework of “Synecdoche, New York” falls apart; unfortunately, it doesn’t come together and create a lasting synthesis. However, the film is a promising start, and I look forward to seeing more of Kaufman’s work in the coming decade, as he grows into a great director and reaches even more ambitious levels as a writer.

Image Sources: The Austin Chronicle, Focus Features, Sony Pictures Classics
Links: IMDb