A film review by Mark O'Hara Copyright © 1999 Mark O'Hara

If you are old enough to remember watching Andy Kaufman on television, you will have the feeling you are seeing him again in Milos Forman's "Man on the Moon." If you are too young to have seen Kaufman, I'd be interested in hearing if you had a hard time seeing Jim Carrey in there.

Carrey has gotten some press for taking method acting to its limits. Apparently, on the set of this film, he often stayed inside his character's head while the camera was not running. According to the film, this was a habit of Kaufman's - keeping the switch "on" even among friends and relatives. These quirks obviously helped Carrey capture verisimilitude: in appearance, gesticulations, tone of voice - in all aspects save physical stature (I get the idea Carrey is taller and thinner than Kaufman) - the man pulls off an astounding impersonation. Through the bug-eyed, goofy visage, the longish, fluffy hair and sideburns, the articulate politeness sometimes practiced by class clowns, Carrey captures much of the persona of one of the more colorful figures of the early 1980's.

Forman starts the piece with an offbeat quasi-monologue in which Kaufman tells us, using the voice of "Foreign Man," that the movie about his life is bad, and has been cut so short that it is over already. Then we fall into a sequence showing a young Andy (Bobby Boriello) M. C.-ing an imaginary television show. His father tells him that there's no camera in the bedroom wall, that what Andy needs is an audience. Herein lies the key to Kaufman's showing off: if no one is there to watch, it doesn't happen. The movie traces Kaufman's development as a live performer, focusing on the lack of understanding and support for what is now called performance art. We do not see much biographical focus, as we meet the comic artist's parents and sister only briefly, seeing the parents at their son's various appearances but never watching their characters explored.

So many parts of this "biopic" are easy to watch because they are already familiar. We know Lorne Michaels, and recognize him and many others playing themselves. Michaels is deadpan as he watches Kaufman introduced as 'Saturday Night Live's" musical guest; following is Kaufman's famous though brief lip-sync of the "Mighty Mouse" theme. In part Kaufman's style was reactionary, even confrontational, as he decides to punish a college audience by carrying out what seems to be "Plan B," reading "The Great Gatsby" in its entirety, while most of the audience leaves. We recognize most acutely his tussles with professional wrestler Jerry Lawler (playing himself as well). As David Letterman tries to promote peace, Kaufman jumps up and curses at Lawler; the wrestler responds with a very realistic slap that floors Kaufman and sends him into on-the-air, profane fury. The rub here is obvious: is Kaufman serious, or is he engaging in the inflammatory posturing that wrestlers have acted out for decades?

The film reaches its most interesting moments when this question comes up. And the film is often interesting. Carrey and his director, Forman, develop the artist as a lovable person who is next to impossible to work with. Always obnoxious when he didn't get his way, always looking for a grander, more self-reflexive ruse, Kaufman cared more about creativity than he did about social politeness. At times the film is hard to watch because it makes us think about the consequences of what seem to be Kaufman's ill-considered actions. He taunts a Memphis audience heartlessly, and toward the end, a "Saturday Night Live" poll shows a vote to ban him from the show. Multi-faceted he surely is, and Carrey loses himself in the role.

As Andy Kaufman's friend and producer, Bob Zmuda, Paul Giamatti acts with sharp intelligence. We first meet him during a run-in with Kaufman's alter ego, the villainous, hateful, non-talented lounge lizard Tony Clifton. Clifton pours a glass of water over the head of an audience member - Zmuda as a plant - and we can see Kaufman's in-your-face brilliance. Zmuda seems to be the one who knows Andy the best - although we don't see anything of how their friendship developed. But even Zmuda is unable to read Andy at times.

Courtney Love plays Lynne Margulies, Kaufman's girlfriend. It seems they meet when, on the "Merv Griffin Show," he offers a challenge to wrestle any woman who thinks she can pin him. With Merv innocently shrugging his shoulders, and with Zmuda as referee, Kaufman proceeds to humiliate her, inviting the wrath of the audience. But backstage he is surprised this woman took him seriously. Later we ponder the same question about reality when Lawler slams Kaufman's inert body to the canvas. Is it real? Should we be worried about Andy or angry at him for deceiving us? Can deception be entertainment? Love has grown into a natural actress, and although Lynne's relationship with Kaufman could be given more coverage, she draws our regard and pity.

Danny DeVito - a Kaufman friend and fellow "Taxi" cast member - supplies the main link between parts of the story. A smooth actor, DeVito knows when to turn on which emotion. He does well in showing a frank ambivalence toward Kaufman's wildness. A good agent, he gets Kaufman to accept the sitcom "Taxi" with the intimidating quip that an opportunity like this would never, never surface again if Kaufman turned it down. He also humors the moody artist numerous times, smoothing out disagreements with network executives. DeVito's performance is strong enough to warrant nominations for major awards.

Milos Forman paces the film well; there are lots of different levels of action happening: we switch from Kaufman's personal life to his onstage personas. A compliment should go to this director for not becoming too heavy-handed in portraying a search for selfhood or clear identity. These themes he explores obliquely - the best way they could be explored.

So much of the film seems to have written itself. There are the controversies, the comic routines, the delving deep into the interactive side of behavioral science; but there's a story we don't know much about until the movie tells us.

After Kaufman contracted lung cancer, many of his friends, and apparently even some of his family, thought it was another put-on. The ultimate irony here is that, at some point in the film, Kaufman does mention faking his death. And after we watch his dead-on Elvis impersonation - one of the earliest and best - we too wonder if we are being put-on. That's the charm of the film, it sketches a clear picture of Andy Kaufman but never captures him completely in focus. There's always some movement of his causing a blur in our understanding. The person most responsible for creating these illusions is Jim Carrey, and based on his performance in this picture alone, he gets my vote for this year's best actor.

	Running Time: 118 Min | Rated: R | US Release: December 22nd | More >>

Related Links:

• Official Site
• The Andy Kaufman page
• CineMAYHEM'S Man On The Moon
• Upcomingmovies.com: Man on the Moon

"Hello, my name is Andy and this is my review."