American Dresser

American Dresser

One of the things I look forward watching in Hollywood is when an actor does a role that seems like more of an ego flex. In the last two years we have had actors Sam Elliott (The Hero) and Burt Reynolds (The Last Movie Star) portraying themselves on screen, these are the types of characters that are based on the roles in which the actor had first gained fame and managed to portray them self while also satirical their own stardom.

And considering American Dresser has Tom Berenger as a Vietnam Vet who is called up to introspect after loosing a cherished one, it makes me wish writer-director Carmine Cangialosi had similar intention. If that was ever the intent however, the intent got incredibly lost in translation.

Ever since John Moore’s wife died (Gina Gershon appears in flashback), he has been floating in the sea of life without purpose. Both of his daughters plead with him to stop drinking; his best buddy Charlie (Keith David), who has settled down after a spinsterhood, attempts to cheer him up by reminiscing how two men, after finishing their Vietnam War duties, rode bikes across the country. Later on, John comes across a letter that his wife had hidden from him, a letter which motivates him to once again get on the motorcycle and drive from Long Island to Oregon.

As Charlie hopes to set off for one last adventure, knowing how his immobility would begin due to age ailments, he too plans to travel, and in no time do the two men hope to find yet another companion Willie (Cangialosi), who is a nomad who carries a wrench and is just happy traveling with them to the West Coast.

Likewise, they fight in a bar, sleep in the open fields, and get into trouble with the authorities in an unnamed small town, while John is portrayed battling his alcohol addiction and the contents of the letter he received still revolving in the unknown.

Looking at the splendid ensemble that includes actors like Bruce Dern, Penelope Anne Miller and Jeff Fahey who will appear thanks to some chance roadside encounters, it’s obvious that various temptations will be present to watch the American Dresser. That’s why it is surprising that the most irritating of the many problems of this picture is American Dresser’s failure to sustain history’s credibility.

While these actors are experienced and are competent in the dramatic arts, they seem to have lived no full lives; Gershom and Berenger are lovers but in their few scenes together, there are more strangers than lovers and Cangialosi appears to be mystified as to how to make the back story of John and Charlie transitive. We are told that the two were Vietnam veterans who turned to each other for solace after years of battling post-traumatic stress; what we witness however are unseemly humor and curse words that do little to enhance their middle-aged performers.

Contradictorily, as Cangialosi is also the writer, director and actor in his own film, he appears to care less for the relationships between the stars of his film than for how distant his character is. It is suggested that Willie is a fugitive; during one of the scenes his hand reaches for his waist and it is inferred that he has a concealed weapon as a female officer looking at him from outside the bar makes the slightest eye contact with him.

However, in American Dresser, all of this is construed to be his attributes and he is seen to have almost half a dozen different ladies and his own happy ending. The happy ending, let’s not forget, doesn’t come until Charlie again develops his illness, becomes an amputee, and ends up in a hospital bed far from his wife. And understandably, these two resolutions make considerably more sense in context than what happened to John who completed his odyssey having left quite a few questions open, about half a dozen in fact.

American Dresser with no character bits looks like a mishmash of a bunch of dull short episodes tied by a great deal, and I mean great deal, of establishing shots. We get inserted shots of John and Charlie’s faces, then cut to the desert, then Willie riding a motorcycle, then cut to the California coast, and other foreign footage. American Dresser could certainly pummel ten minutes out of its overall length if editors abstain from using any footage except that with the leading actors. It is just unfortunate that the places can be more captivating than the people.”

Bereavement sometimes puts us in a mood to remember even those buried feelings and affection that we have long left in the past. So, on many occasions, do people love even when they do not know it. John (Tom Berenger) is often overwhelmed by memories of losing a great love, his American Dresser motorcycle, when his wife dies from cancer. He is quite old now, still in good shape, but he embraces the truth that this will not last forever. He does not have a good relationship with his daughters, who seem to wish he was not around. Now seems as good a time as any to get the engine started and hit the highway.

Of course, it’s never going to be that easy. However, best buddy Charlie (Keith David) found a brilliant method of guilt-tripping Charlie into allowing him to tag along: his leg is bound to be amputated shortly and he will never get to do this again. Together they also get another team member in the form of director Carmine Cangialosi, who is supposed to replicate a languid Brad Pitt’s role from Thelma And Louise but who may have ulterior motives and who can be handily forgiven for his skills in mending a malfunctioning bike. John is excited because he will get to see the sights and meet an ex-girlfriend an route, but he also has another purpose for the journey which he does not want anyone telling anyone at the present.

It’s fair to say that there are some stunning views America has to offer, and there is no race which offers better views than a motorbike unless you have a helicopter. But Cangialosi has a helicopter and knows just how to utilize it even though, like many other long road trips, soon most of the sights become boring. It is a familiar scene, like the advertisement of those misconceived look-back music CDs to the 40 something drivers who were too young to give a hoot about those songs. The company is pretty good, but after a period of time, the discussions start turning viciously monotonous. And that is the cue to play I Spy.

Backwoods barbarians march out from a range of assorted pictures and it is evident that the directors of these films are under the delusion that if David Lynch or the Cohen brothers could make such abstractions interesting than so could they. I see a stringy blondes with a handful of qualities usually playing the role of props.

I see fat, bald-headed toughs hopping stick fights when in fact the surrounding isn’t from this part. Easy going and on and on that what it is, none of these ever been really bad or contributing in any way. Passable Barbara Hershey’s husband the above is great in her minuscule fragments, John’s deceased spouse. Also, there’s a particular scene where Charlie is beaten by racist cops that ‘is too authentic’ to fit in the rest of the flick. It would probably come off as groundbreaking had people not seen David perfectly closing out every scene only to be outranked by a white man for the descend majority of the film.

People after finishing the film are more interested in similarity than anything else, however, as American Dresser comes to its strangely flat climax, it offers nothing of intrigue or surprise.

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