Applying Voltaire
Tadpole aims high, but hits a little too close to Three’s Company
TADPOLE
Starring Sigourney Weaver, Aaron Stanford, John Ritter, Bebe Neuwirth
Directed by Gary Winick
Opens August 2
The Uptown
A wise friend of mine once proclaimed that because he owned a copy of Citizen Kane he had no need to view the film. Drawing his philosophy from Arnie Grape (the brother of the title character in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape), my friend could watch the movie any time.
I have similarly owned an unread copy of Voltaire’s Candide for years, but after seing Tadpole, I am guilt free – I never have to read the book. Tadpole quotes from Voltaire as a means to establish and frame its content. I can read the book anytime, but pop culture has come to the rescue.
According to our precocious lead boy (Aaron Stanford), Voltaire is funny (does that mean like Captain-Ron funny?). This is a dilemma, however, since humour is distinctly lacking in the film. Unless it’s funny watching an "art" film degenerate into a game of "don’t tell the secret." Or the fun of watching a tightly wound 15-year-old boy – but my, he listens and is so passionate – try to keep the secret of his infidelity (with Bebe Neuwirth) from his stepmom (Sigourney Weaver). Why the worry? It seems our "coming of age boy" is madly in love with stepmommy. "Coming of age" is never a selling feature – it’s a ticket to horror.
So if Voltaire is funny but Tadpole is not, then what canst thou learn from this film? I know! The life of the wealthy elite of New York’s Upper East Side needs the passion of intelligent youth in order to help people develop strong heterosexual bonds. Now don’t get me wrong here, I love mocking the vacant lives of the rich, but Tadpole takes its subject matter too seriously and we’re left feeling that all is somehow right in this Upper East Side world.
Hanging the majority of the film upon a thin and painful frame of relationship oopses and the tension-created containment stress seems far too similar to Three’s Company. And I long ago got all the Upper East Side zest I could ever need from George and "Weezy." Perhaps I was wrong: perhaps I should read Candide. |
