Final Rating: 3/5
The strength of Kent Jones’ Late Fame lies in the friction it creates between former poet Ed Saxberger and the world we currently live in. Every frame of the film combats and confronts the idea of instant gratification. Where the film stumbles is by biting off more than it can chew, though it leaves plenty for a viewer to sink their teeth into.
Saxberger (Willem Dafoe) is a postal worker. He has been for nearly four decades. When he was younger, he wrote and published a book of poetry titled Way Past Go! Nobody read it; nobody cared. Ultimately, Saxberger moved on. The glimpses we get into Saxberger’s life without fame or recognition seem fine–almost aggressively so. He has no family of his own, just a sister nagging him about visiting their brother in the hospital. He hangs out with friends from the post office at a local pub and shoots pool. He lives a very average and mundane life.
Then he meets Wilson Meyers (Edmund Donovan). Meyers likes to call everyone by their last name. He’s a twenty-something from NYU who might be the first person to read Saxberger’s poetry. And he loved it. He saw it as “modern, timeless, and relevant”. He invites Saxberger to join him and his group of friends, The Enthusiasm Society, for drinks.
Late Fame is chock full of wish fulfillment. Anybody late in life who had grand aspirations when they were younger has probably entertained the notion that they would be ‘discovered’. Surely, the time simply wasn’t right for their work when they initially created it–the world just wasn’t ready. How kismet of it all for the young generation to stumble upon a forgotten book of poems, read them, and hold them aloft as the holy grail of all creative endeavors. That’s how Meyers and his group treat Saxberger’s writing.
Saxberger is hesitant at first, but slowly allows himself to be drawn in by his fawning, doting fans. This is a life he missed out on. This is a moment he never got to experience. Suddenly, he is inundated with praise and acknowledgement. It doesn’t take long before his entire life is restructured around this group of people 30-40 years his junior. Jones’ film nails the idea that anyone in Saxberger’s position would succumb to the temptation and trappings of fame. It doesn’t matter if you’re a fifteen-year-old prodigy or a seventy-year-old forgotten artist.
From there, the film slowly spreads itself into three principle ideas. The first revolves around Saxberger reckoning with his newfound celebrity. He’s involved in the creation of a reading that The Enthusiasm Society plans to perform with Saxberger as the headliner. Meyers even convinces him to write something new. Saxberger meets up with a publisher (under false pretenses) who proposes he write a memoir about his life, as if it would be exciting and worth reading, rather than banal. Amidst this, he’s ignoring calls from his sister and skipping out on gatherings with his friends from work. He’s above them now.
The second idea stems from Meyers. He’s the de facto leader of The Enthusiasm Society. He sees them as authentic students of the world “standing up against vulgarity”. They’re a motley group that takes issue with influencers and believes technology rots the brain. Meyers, unlike Saxberger, is not content to go gentle into that good night of adulthood. He wants the recognition and won’t wait around for it. Furthermore, he believes he’s owed it.
Which leaves the third principle idea that surrounds a different member of The Enthusiasm Society: Gloria. Gloria, played enigmatically by Greta Lee, is older than the rest of the society, or at least gives off that impression. She’s a stage actor who rebels against network television. She’s larger than life and, after learning that Saxberger is writing something new for the society’s upcoming reading, tells him “if I don’t do your recital, I will die”.
Saxberger is happy to accept that he’s finally made it when Meyers shows up on his doorstep. Meyers is willing to do anything and everything to prove to everyone else how valuable he and his society are. However, Gloria is putting on airs every time she appears on screen. It wouldn’t be out of place for her to have a scarf a mile long trailing behind her as she strolls down the New York City sidewalk, a train of adoring fans and paparazzi in her wake, none of them knowing if she’s famous because she’s famous or if she actually has any acting ability.
It’s how Jones–and writer Samy Burch–tackle resolving these threads that leaves the film somewhat unsatisfying. Saxberger’s story is the most complete. Dafoe is the film’s lead and embodies Saxberger with a casual cool that eventually erodes when his head grows too big to hold up by himself.
Meyers’ story crashes and burns with frustratingly little fanfare. It’s a whimper and not a bang. He’s far more interesting for the role he plays in Saxberger’s story than his own, as he instigates so much of the notoriety that Saxberger enjoys. Meyers force-feeds Saxberger with glory, because that’s the world they now live in. Meyers belongs to a generation that mythologizes everyone for anything they do and he has chosen this poet to elevate on a pedestal. He is culpable in Saxberger’s abrupt and ill-handled rise to fame.
Gloria’s story is far more convoluted. Greta Lee’s committed performance and a well-timed reveal behind her character’s facade aren’t enough to counterbalance the lack of clarity that surrounds her. She proves to everyone that she’s not faking her talents as a performer, but every tangible plot thread connected to her is left unresolved when she absconds from the film afterward and is never heard from again.
Kent Jones has a lot to say about the pitfalls of success. It’s far less common today to find someone comfortable without it. In a world where so many can pick up a phone and make a movie, record a song, and post a vlog, chasing fame comes with the territory. Saxberger gets caught up in the frenzy. He has to figure out how important that feeling is to him. He’s transported back to a time that never existed. Like Gloria tells him, “There’s nothing more exciting than a rediscovered male genius.” He buys into it because Meyers convinces him that he is living it.
The film’s look is unremarkable, but serves its story competently. The primary trio of performers are all good, with Gloria’s reading performance being a true highlight of the film. In the end, Late Fame touches on a variety of fascinating themes, but perhaps it would have been clearer if the screenplay had been more streamlined.
Thank you to Route504 for the screener.
