October 1, 1999 | There is something almost quaint about the sophomoric Being John Malkovich, a modestly clever trifle that has been wildly overpraised by people who should know better. Even at its infrequent best, this debut feature by music-video director Spike Jonze resembles a ’90s version of those tediously hip and terminally shallow counter-culture comedies of the late ’60s and early ’70s.
John Cusack gives a fearlessly persuasive performance as Craig Schwartz, an insufferably pretentious street puppeteer. Having failed to attract the masses with his all-marionette production of Abelard and Heloise, Craig swallows his considerable pride and takes a job as file clerk for an odd business in an even odder headquarters, a low-ceilinged office on Floor 7 ½ of an ancient Manhattan building. (Unfortunately, this sounds a lot funnier than it actually looks on screen.) During a work break, Craig discovers a portal that leads – remarkably, inexplicably – inside the head of actor John Malkovich (played, with a mischievous touch of self-parody, by the real Malkovich). For 15 minutes, the puppeteer is able to see the world through Malkovich’s eyes – to, in effect, vicariously live someone else’s life. He thinks this is a metaphysical wonder. But Maxine (Catherine Keener), his cynical and sexually ambiguous co-worker, prefers to see the marvel as a terrific way to make a buck.
Being John Malkovich is genuinely amusing as it contemplates the insidious appeal of becoming, however briefly, someone famous. Mind you, neither Craig nor Maxine can name any movie Malkovich ever has made, or even explain precisely why this guy is a celebrity. But that matters little to them, and even less to the folks willing pay $200 each to “be” John Malkovich while the actor goes about such mundane tasks as phoning in an order for new bathmats. All that matters is that Malkovich is famous, and that anyone who enters the portal can savor 15 minutes of his famousness.
Instead of fully developing their conceit, however, Jonze and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman waste time with a lot of extraneous nonsense that has little resonance beyond its aggressive weirdness. Lotte (Cameron Diaz), Craig’s neglected wife, falls in love with Maxine, who returns her affection only when Lotte is inside John Malkovich. Eventually, Craig gains complete control of Malkovich, who abandons acting to become – yes, you guessed it – a puppeteer. Further complications arise, but they come off as ever more desperate vamping.
