Life, what is it about? When we are born, there is a confidence that the world will be one way. As we age, our experience changes us and forces us to adjust our perspective of the world into something new and strange. When we get there, there is an uncertainty that arises. Did we live our best lives, or did we put in the effort to find fulfillment? Even if that’s the case, are the lives we wanted what we now need in order to live out our remaining time on this mortal coil as great as we thought? Whereas we could look at the early years and see a road full of potential, the latter half feels like a grey cloud, thunder pouring out. It’s the dreaded sense of death that fills our lives, forcing us to feel personally unfulfilled.
That is exactly why most people have been prone to the midlife crisis, where it involves major reinvention. Maybe you buy a car, dress like you’re in your early 20s, or throw dollar bills in the club. From the outside, we all know how ridiculous it looks, but from inside it’s something tragic and regretful. It’s a moment where our identity is lost and we’re this strange orb cohabiting this planet. People will gawk, and there are those few who take it too far and never are the same.
The recent release of Deerskin (2020) fits the bill like a glove on a hand. Well, not quite a glove. The title refers to protagonist Georges’ (Jean Dujardin) love of a deerskin jacket. When the story opens, we are introduced to a video of people throwing their jackets into a trunk while declaring that they will never wear jackets again. What is this big dramatic moment for? Director Quentin Dupieux doesn’t give us the answer until the third act, but it’s easy to see who the perpetrator of this act is.
Georges has an unhealthy fixation on this deerskin jacket. He loves it so much that he’s even willing to pay well over the asking price. He is desperate to own it. Nobody knows why, but it makes him fulfilled. There is no certainty that this character has always been this way, as there are absurd jumps in logic with this similar garment. Without it, he lacks confidence. With it on, he’s this married virtuoso of filmmaking, stopping over at a French motel for a film shoot. His story begins to fall apart when you realize that his unseen film crew who "died in Siberia" are likely nonexistent. Similarly, a concern that he’s married becomes questionable as he pawns off a wedding ring as collateral only to steal another from a corpse.
He is the embodiment of the midlife crisis, reinventing his persona in order to seem hip and cool. The story captures him in what he thinks is his best life, becoming an artist who is capable of expressing himself. It becomes so clear that this jacket gives him a voice that it even speaks to him, serving as his own hype-man. At the local pub, he meets Denise (Adèle Haenel), who gives in to his whim, inspiring him to continue filming as she empties her bank account after his wife’s runs dry.
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Dupieux has always been a fan of the “no reason” approach to filmmaking, and this film creates one of the most exceptional mixes of existentialism and surrealism. When Denise announces that she is a professional editor, there is this sense of film and character unifying. Georges is trying to rewrite his story, but it lacks focus. As Denise says that she once re-edited Pulp Fiction (1994) so that it would be in order (it wasn’t that good), it creates this sense in Georges that she can edit his life into something more substantial. She is capable of taking his videos and turning them into something clear and coherent.
All of this qualifies as a deadpan comedy, where Georges can’t stop giving into foolish impulses. You think that the deerskin jacket was it? No. He needs deerskin boots, deerskin pants, deerskin hat, and even deerskin gloves. He is essentially trying to become something that he clearly cannot be, and it amazing how each gradual fashion shift finds him looking only a tad more ridiculous. To Dujardin’s credit, you buy his sincerity and it never comes across as a massive farce. It’s equal parts hilarious and sad while Dupieux’s mystery is excellently hidden underneath the surface, not only making the mystery of “who is this guy?” but also “why is he doing this?” To go back to Dupieux’s ethos: no reason.
On the flip side is Anomalisa (2015), which takes a different approach to the phrase “no reason.” Much like Georges, Michael Stone (David Thewlis) begins his journey on the way to a motel. It’s a place crowded with people, and yet they’re all isolated in their own boxes. Michael is no different, finding the noise of the world overwhelming. If there’s any major difference between Georges and Michael, it’s that Michael’s background is a lot clearer. He has a family (he begins the story by needing to visit a toy store only to buy a strange Japanese antique from a sex shop) and he’s in town to give a speech as a pioneer in the customer service industry.
It’s the irony that the story needs. Even if his job is to talk to people, it’s often in the most impersonal way imaginable. You’re on the phone selling strangers on something they don’t need. Even those in your industry don’t need anything but advice on how to sell, sell, sell. Michael forms a relationship with Lisa Hesselman (Jennifer Jason Leigh), who gives in to his wisdom and forms this deeper bond with him. It’s the equivalent of a one night stand, but her socially awkward nature makes her far more endearing, giving Michael something that he’s missing in his life. It also doesn’t help that the remaining cast (male and female) are voiced by Tom Noonan, creating this monotony that nobody but Lisa feels truly genuine.
Anomalisa is a melancholic movie about a man looking for meaning in his life. His loneliness is similar to Georges in that he questions the value of his decisions. He can’t help but feel alone, questioning simple things like calling home to check in with his family. Even the animation by Charlie Kaufman has surrealism to it that finds the stop-motion puppets assembled in a way that the faces look like masks. Nobody feels genuine with each other, making Lisa feel all the more special.
If there’s any difference between Denise and Lisa, it’s the value that they serve to the protagonist. On the surface, they’re the same. They unlock something deep down in them that finds a youthful endearment, allowing them to feel comfortable unleashing their inner dreams. They talk to each other with an eagerness that comes across like a romantic fling meant to suffice repressed desires. In Anomalisa, it’s something sexual. In Deerskin, it’s something more neurotic. However, both ultimately inform where the story winds up.
For one shining moment, Lisa is a figure full of promise. She has these awkward tics that make her respond “Shut up, Lisa.” In a lot of ways, she comes across as a rare example of human contact. After that night together, he begins to notice her flaws and suddenly she loses her authenticity. The hallways begin to close in and the animation becomes more abstract. Michael begins to feel alone in the world again, realizing that this moment can’t last. The voices all sound the same again. The Tom Noonan’s of the world run rampant and it informs his speech. How do you tell people how to communicate when you’re personally unable to? His ultimate message is that we all need to love each other and that the person on the other end needs to hear it.
What does Georges want? Well, he wants to be a filmmaker. What starts as a rogue mission gets Denise to film his chaotic actions. You’d think that this would be a tip-off and she’d call the cops, but instead she becomes an encouraging force for him.
Georges’ ultimate goal is to film people saying that they’ll never wear jackets again. He wants to be the only one who wears them, making him stand out as something special. He drives around with a camera in hand, talking to people randomly walking around, and sets them up. The strangers think it’s a simple arthouse project, but when Georges leaves with the jackets in his trunk, it becomes clear. This isn’t just some weird project. It’s the narcissism of the highest order.
One thing leads to another and soon Denise proves that she’s even crazier than Georges is. She is an instigator, seeing his midlife crisis as a chance to create this bizarre movie. Where he stops at stealing jackets, she begins wanting him to commit murder in order to fulfill his narrative. Much like how Lisa convinces Michael that there is love in the world, Denise tells Georges that his dreams are valid and that he just needs to keep going further. While the film never gives into its serial killer nature, it does so enough to cover the penchant Dupieux absurdity.
The other big difference between these two is how they end. Anomalisa ends with Michael giving a speech that is manic but ultimately heartfelt. He returns home to give his son the Japanese antique and sit on the steps, watching the happy world around him. He reads a letter from Lisa, whom he dubbed “Anomaly Lisa, or Anomalisa,” who is having a great time driving around with her friend. There is this sense that Michael wants to be there but sadly must return to his normal life. She ends by saying that the word Anomalisa in Japanese means a goddess, which Lisa doesn’t see herself as. It’s clear that Michael feels differently.
Meanwhile, Deerskin is far from the most emotionally rich take on the midlife crisis. With exception to Dujardin’s impeccable performance that feels dramatic at its core, everything about it feels absurd, making his desperate clamoring for reason surreal. He eventually buries all of the jackets in a landfill, thinking that he’s won.
As Denise shoots the final scene where he’s out in nature, moving further away from the camera, things become more confusing. Aesthetically he’s fading into nature behind him. He might as well be a speck. Still, he yells for Denise to film him. He never stops backing up until he’s eventually shot by deer hunters. It’s a stark moment that makes one truly question who Georges has become. Is he now a deer, or a figure so reviled that he is open game for everyone he’s ever wronged (which is everyone who has worn a jacket)?
Anomalisa may be the introverted, more insightful look into the midlife crisis, but it’s interesting to see how similar it is to Deerskin on one level. They’re both these stories that push artistic metaphor within hotels to reflect the fading relevance of man. Whereas one wants to find answers, the other revels in not having everything there. It’s entertaining, brazen, and maybe the greatest thing that Dupieux has ever done as a director. Even within the post-modernism of his “no reason” ethos, he has found enough to make one of his most human and tragic characters. What it lacks in bombastic comedy, it more than makes up for with one of Dujardin's most charismatic performances since The Wolf of Wall Street (2013).
As someone who likes Dupieux’s work, it’s amazing how scattershot he often has been. He loves being weird to a profane level that you can’t help but admire him. Deerskin feels like he’s going deeper, finding something more serious in his comedy and ultimately coming out with a story that breaks down film in order to understand midlife crises and how we use the medium to escape our problems. Even if there’s nothing reasonable about Georges, he is all of us as we get older. It may not be a jacket, but we all have something that we think makes us vital, but in reality, we’re just finding symbolism where there isn’t any. Our instincts suck no matter how hard we try, so we better just make the most of it.
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