American Hustle and New Year’s Resolutions

on January 1, 2014

“The absence of authentic identity is most ruinous to a soul.” – The character of Pope John Paul II, in Brian J. Gail’s Fatherless. 

“They’ll all be gone by February,” read the caption under a cartoon in a Sunday paper, many years ago. The scene depicted above those six words was a gymnasium packed to the rafters with overweight athletes in brand new sports apparel. The speaker of those words, significantly slimmer than his fellows, is smack in the middle of the crowd and clearly uncomfortable. The reason for the unusually high gym attendance is given both in the comic, as a calendar on the cartoon brick wall and in the upper right corner of the newspaper carrying the image. The date is January 1st.

The impending departure of people from our lives can be a great spur to charity. At my last confession, the priest exhorted me: “Be good to your parents, they won’t be around forever.” But the sentiment expressed by the comic is the exact opposite. “These phonies will soon be gone from my gym, and not a moment too soon. Who did they think they were fooling?”

For this reason, I dearly wish David O. Russell would have released his latest film, ‘American Hustle,’ today, New Year’s Day. The idea of personal resolution and the vague promise of a brighter future are omnipresent in both. In this small coffee shop, where I am writing, a chalk board behind me reads: “What is something new you want to try in 2014?” In ‘American Hustle’, Sydney begs Irving to cut a pile of money out of a mattress and make a new life with her out of the reach of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The film, a work of cinematic craft, tells the (heavily fictionalized) story of the Abscam scandal of the last century. Being a Russell film, the particulars of the plot are only employed as a stage for the characters to explore the intricacies of the colossal landscape that is regret. Irving, played by the chameleon Christian Bale, runs a highly successful swindling operation, persuading delusional investors that they can, with no guarantees, reap a return of $50,000 if they but pay Irving the small sum of $5,000 to invest in offshore accounts. The scam becomes infinitely more persuasive with the addition of Sydney, played by Amy Adams, whose invented personality, Lady Edith Greensly, adds the foreign mystique and feminine charm to the equation. All goes well until one of their clients, Richie Di Masio, played by Bradley Cooper, flashes a badge after handing over his rubber check for the five grand.

No reason to further delve into the plot here. All the turns and twists and double crossings only serve to expound a philosophy. That philosophy is given expression by Irving when he is showing Richie the efforts of his exploits in the art business. “I want to show you something, this Rembrant here.” says Irving. After the camera lingers over the intricate brushwork and and exquisite coloration, Irving breaks the spell by telling Richie, “Its a fake.” Noting the incredulity of the FBI agent, Irving continues, “The guy who made this was so good that its real. So, who is the master? The painter? Or the forger?”

If Irving is trying to convince anyone that imitation is to be preferred over authenticity, he is probably trying to convince himself. When the film ends, Irving has abandoned his life as a con man in favor of a “legitimate” (his word) art business. Throughout the film he has been increasingly frustrated by the distance between his expectations for his plans and the reality of his accomplishments. Sydney, for her part, gives further example to the hollowness of Irving’s philosophy of forgery when she tearfully sheds her british accent and chique trappings in favor of her native American accent and a plain bathrobe. She could beautifully imitate Lady Edith Greensly. She forged Edith. But the hollowness of imitation eventually wore her down, and all she wants is to be “real.”

That realness manifests in another, more subtle, way with Sydney. Throughout the film, the audience is treated to a shocking amount of Amy Adam’s skin. The characters in the film are also aware of her over-the-top sex appeal and she is pursued by both Irving and Richie. The squeamish ought to be aware of a particularly lurid scene on the floor and in the bathroom of a ’70’s dance club, though it will not shock or surprise anyone who has attended a high school dance in the last decade.

At the end of the film, as Irving has acknowledged the value of authenticity in his new business pursuit. Sydney, who has kept both the men and the audience guessing as to her true allegiance, firmly sides with one man against the other. In retrospect, the man she chooses is the only man who she actually slept with throughout the film. Some part of her knew that sex was a vulnerable place of authenticity which she could not venture into with the man she was playing for the sake of the con. This character detail is a far cry from a full-throated affirmation of the unitive and procreative role of sex in marriage, but Sydney’s actions, in a thoroughly secular film, give a concealed hint that the true, authentic and real nature of sex might be more sacramental than sensational.

What Richie De Masio represents is the vast chasm that exists between morality and moralizing. Not only does he continuously magnify the scope of the sting, starting out as a bust of four con men and culminating with the bust of several Representatives, a US Senator and mayor Carmine Polito. He also adopts a piously modern approach as concerns the ends and the means. His cautious boss Stoddard, played by Louis C.K., is seen as an obstacle to be overcome, rather than a check to be considered. Where Richie is at first content to go behind his back and manipulate the chain of command, he ends up smashing Stoddard in the face repeatedly with a telephone, which is a distinctively gruesome experience given how much larger and heavier phones were in the 1970’s. Di Masio thinks he has won following the final con of the film, but soon discovers that Irving has manipulated him and he, Di Masio, is now seen as the probable culprit responsible for the disappearance of 2 million dollars from the FBI’s account. The ends can never justify the means, because we’ll never be sure to what end our plans will come.

The original title of the script, back when it was on the Hollywood blacklist, was ‘American Bullshit.’ That is a better title. ‘Bullshit’ is said frequently and every one of the characters is full of it. As with New Year’s resolutions, the promise of hope and change goes unfulfilled and justifications soon follow. In a speech to Richie, Sydney proclaims that everyone tells themselves lies to survive. Sydney goes through the majority of the film pretending to be Edith. Richie pretends to be an FBI hotshot while still living in a rundown apartment with his mother and fiance (whom he neglects to tell Sydney about, lest it spoil the budding romance).  “People believe what they want to believe.” says Irving halfway through the film. The message is clear: everyone is full of shit. Everyone is just as bad as we are.

No doubt that each of the characters saw themselves as the ‘good guy.’ No doubt everyone making a resolution this New Year’s Day believes they will stick to it. But the lesson taught by ‘American Hustle’ is that no force of will, no master plan, can totally overcome human weakness. We cannot make ourselves into whomever we wish to be because we are not self-created beings. We have already been made as a particular person. It is not New Year’s Day and its customary resolutions which hold the key to discovering ourselves. That which gives our lives meaning, a new horizon and a decisive direction is not a vain wish for a fatter wallet, a slimmer waistline or an end to our insurmontable problems. To find out who we are called to be, and to receive the grace to be that person, we need to look back one week, back to December 25th. Only by remembering Him who created us can we ever hope for a brighter future.

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