Vanilla Sky
Rated R
Now playing at UA North Creek

By Bill Nichols

Suffice it to say that Laredo has supplied me with some of my most memorable cinematographic experiences. There was the time Being John Malkovich miraculously made its way into town but despite the title appearing above the ticket counter, over one of the theaters, and even on the marquee, no one "working" in the theatre even remotely recognized the title. Another time, I called to local video stores trying to track down a Buster Keaton silent film for one of my classes. One local informed me enigmatically that "they don't make those anymore." I thought to myself, "They don't make what? Silent films? I suppose since the advent of 'talkies,' creating a silent film would seem at least odd. They don't make Buster Keaton films? He's been dead for decades. Silent films on tape? I don't even know what that means."
This past weekend, when I went to see Vanilla Sky, it happened again. Since it was a Tom Cruise movie everyone recognized it so there was no fiasco buying the tickets or locating the theater. My wife and I sat comfortably throughout the movie, no one obstructed our view, and only once did a baby scream. As the film ended and faded to black, I anticipated the final credits while the rest of the audience marched out. Unlike many, I enjoy the final credits and consider them part of the film. Not only that, in the credits there is a lot of information not only about who participated in the movie's creation but also regarding references to songs, shoot locations, and other information that may interest some and complement the viewer's film experience. Needless to say, less than two seconds into the final credits, the image split in two, the screen went white, and a Coca-Cola ad appeared. Leaving the theater I wanted to say something to someone but couldn't decide to whom. The 16-year-old taking tickets? The 16-year-old serving Milk Duds? The 16-year-old sweeping popcorn off the floor? I felt a strange mixture of rage, depression, despair, and resignation as I walked out to my car.
By no means do I delude myself into thinking that I represent the target audience to which the films in Laredo market themselves. If you look at the movie listings for this past weekend you'll find Shallow Hal, How High, Joe Somebody, Kate and Leopold, and Not Another Teen Movie. All I would ask of the managers at the local United Artists and Cinemark movie theaters is to realize that there is a university in Laredo, there are intelligent people here who do read the final credits of movies, and who would appreciate films like In the Bedroom, Gosford Park, The Man Who Wasn't There, and The Royal Tennenbaums.
Even before seeing the film, I was suspicious of Vanilla Sky. On a basic level, American adaptations of foreign films are notoriously horrific (think of the Dutch film The Vanishing or the French La Femme Nikita). Having seen the original Spanish film Abre los ojos (1997), I struggled to understand the intended audience of Vanilla Sky. Both Tom Cruise and Cameron Crowe manipulate a very strong mainstream marketing appeal, yet the subject matter of this film is very complex and philosophical. Of course, I have enjoyed Tom Cruise in serious films like The Color of Money, Born on the Fourth of July, Eyes Wide Shut, and Magnolia. Yet I temper my respect for Cruise with memories of Days of Thunder, Cocktail, Mission Impossible I and II, The Firm, and yes, Jerry Maguire.
Nevertheless, I decided I would accept Tom Cruise and try to judge the film on its own merits, avoiding simplistic comparisons with the original. I am sorry but I failed. Yet I think it's hardly my fault. An adaptation by definition begs to be compared with the original. So, I rewatched Alejandro Amenábar's Abre los ojos and noticed several key differences that defeated Vanilla Sky's purpose.
Cameron Crowe's film, though nearly identical to the original, is more than 20 minutes longer yet, ironically, simplified the storyline. Both Vanilla Sky and Abre los ojos focus on a wealthy, vain, womanizing central character that struggles to distinguish dreams from reality after a car crash disfigures his face. One fatal flaw of the American version is its need to erase ambiguity, providing the audience with an ending that explains everything. The Spanish film treats its viewer with more respect, never feeling the need to reveal what is real and what is dream, or if it all was a dream or if it was a dream within a dream.
Yet where does the extra time come from? Whereas Abre los ojos is much more succinct and economical in its use of camera angles, scene length, dialogue, and music, Vanilla Sky seemingly overindulges itself with extraneous and unimportant plot points, as well as Cameron Crowe's idiosyncratic ability for witty dialogue and capacity for creating the "perfect soundtrack." In one scene, the dichotomy between reality and fantasy is seemingly and inanely compared to the division between John Lennon and Paul McCartney in the Beatles. Though music and music references may have worked in other Cameron Crowe films like Say Anything, Jerry Maguire, and Almost Famous, popular songs from Peter Gabriel, U2, the Beach Boys, and others ultimately distract from central theme of the film more than they contribute. Even in interviews both Crowe and Cruise employ music jargon referring to Vanilla Sky as a cover of the original.
Nevertheless, I do appreciate Cruise's consideration of the young Spanish director Alejandro Amenábar, not only in his "cover" of Abre los ojos but also in his role as producer for complex ghost story The Others. Yet while Amenábar has cultivated a reputation for reinvigorating the psychological thriller in Spain with such films as Tesis, Nadie conoce a nadie, Abre los ojos, and The Others, Cameron Crowe muddies Vanilla Sky's purpose with unnecessary references to pop culture, a distracting soundtrack, superfluous dialogue, and irrelevant plot points.

(Bill Nichols is assistant professor of Spanish at Texas A&M International University.)