Rewatched American Beauty again, after a long lull. I know it's fallen out of favor quite a bit since it originally won Best Picture, although some of the criticism again seems based on viewer expectation and extraneous issues like the fall of Kevin Spacey for behavior that aligns too much with his screen character. I have grown also to resonate more with Mendes' next film "Road to Perdition," which I think is just gorgeous filmmaking.
AB had a reputation for being edgy, and I think some of the fallen favor has to do with it no longer feeling edgy and/or being edge as a way to garner attention. The things that appealed to me American Beauty though were more about character and acting, not necessarily about "messaging," so those things haven't changed much. I just found the cast to be spot on with emotional portrayal and continuity, some of them with more difficult lines to walk between real and caricature. (Thinking primarily of Annette Benning here, who I adore.) The atmosphere and cinematography and music is well locked in too. Maybe other films are "better" in terms of showing the empty heart of Western commercialism and middle class disillusionment, but that doesn't mean this film doesn't.
But getting back to my focus -- I always viewed this film in terms of characters, not necessarily themes, or at least the psychological themes. This film actually had one of the first characters I connected with on a character level (Ricky Fitts), so it was special in that regard. But it has been interesting in the intervening years. While Lester Burnham was originally the least interesting character to me, some of the personal growth I've experienced since the film aired gave me another lens to view things by.
When people awaken from a numb detachment from living and just doing what everyone else wants / not really having personal agency, it's not uncommon to push back a lot harder than needed, to exhilarate over the new found freedom, and even be irresponsible / self-absorbed on some levels. You are basically moving from a life where your inner voice was either squashed or you squished it yourself for some reason, to a life where suddenly you are (1) finally hearing your voice and (2) obeying it / following where it leads. Sometimes this can lead to behaving in ways that seem more childish, if you never pursued this route in childhood in order to develop your own voice and autonomy. It's something I learned later in life, you cannot skip this process -- you either do it young when you have no responsibilities or you have to balance it with your responsibilities as an adult in order to mature. Sometimes this process can be unsetting, dependent on the behaviors one indulges in.
There are a lot of characters in this film who have grown numb to life and/or unable to hear their inner voice accurately. Lester is just the most obvious one, who also acts out the most. Carolyn deals with existential dread by obsessing over her work and her house/property, controlling every detail in order to "project the appearance of success" -- but you can tell she's miserable as well and not the woman she once was. Jane is unhappy with her home life and being invisible, to the degree of saving up for a boob job in hopes it makes her feel better about herself. (Note how her ambitions changes once she feels "seen" by Ricky, the perpetual observer.) Ricky is interesting in that on some levels he is the least pretentious and the most doing his own thing -- however, in order to fend off external pressures, he portrays himself a certain way (the outside role protects him from external interference) and he also placates his dad in order to keep him off his back, saying what he knows he wants to hear, until finally Ricky destabilizes his life by honestly speaking his mind; he finally is open about his line of work and his feelings about the people around him. Ricky's mom is like an empty vessel and has no inner voice, somehow it's all been purged from her and/or she's become SO detached she doesn't really exist anymore. Angela just tries to make herself feel important by pretending to be what she thinks will get her the attention she craves, but she's just a scared child who wants someone to care for her. (She pretends to be a sexually mature woman but she's still a girl.) Colonel Fitts is terrified to accept his own impulses and has everything locked down "through discipline" to the degree that he can't even bear for others to know about the moments he hasn't.
Some of these characters become better at hearing themselves, some do not. They are all being tested in some way. It's really interesting that so many of their strategies come by clinging to sexuality of some kind. (Angela, Jane, Lester, Carolyn, Col Fitts, etc.) Does it work? No, not really -- it just tends to destabilize things further. Even before he starts obsessing over Angela, Lester whacks off daily in the shower as the only relief he gets from his tediously awful existence. Empowerment through sex actually isn't the solution.
While some of Lester's behavior is repulsive, and it would be easy to revile him for even entertaining some things he does as the film goes on, note that he was unable to be an adult until he was rebelling against expectations and hearing his own voice again. He is only able to realize what Angela actually needs (and starts providing that) after he's learned to "hear" again and feel like an active participant in his own life; when you are needy and passive, you are still a child and cannot assume an adult role. It's like he is waking up from a drug-induced trance when he realizes his view of Angela doesn't gel with the reality. This is the realization he has at the end of the film that leaves him with some kind of euphoria and peace -- that once you come to terms with yourself and your life is a product of your own choices, then the desperation of drowning fades and you are able to provide to others from an adult's capacity rather than just feeding your own impulses. You can afford to view them as they are and meet them there; you have capacity to give instead of take.
