In American Dreamz, Paul Weitz satirizes America's prevailing cultural icons and sends up its social preconceptions, but he claims all his spoofing isn't just fun and games.
"I'm using broad comedy and irreverence to approach huge issues in our culture, to talk about a core aspect of American identity," says Weitz. "Although American Dreamz sends up American Idol, the administration and terrorism, those are just secondary aspects of the film. The film's really about how we Americans define ourselves by having a dream, and how that's always considered a positive thing. But, I'm examining whether that makes it impossible for us to deal with reality."
MERIN: Is the finished film what you wanted it to be?
WEITZ: Yeah, it's exactly what I set out to do. But I don't imagine it's exactly as any number of other people would want it.
One of the more perverse things about this film is that it's a satire-but, in most satires, characters are kind of pawns for you to laugh at, while in this one, I'm kind of asking you to identify with certain characters. For instance, even the G.W. Bush send-up with Dennis Quaid playing this imbecile-during the course of the film he becomes a sort of Chance the Gardener-type character-Dennis has enough heart that your heart goes out to him. Now, that's an arch that is going to annoy both sides. It's going to annoy right-wingers that it's a send-up of the administration. It's going to annoy left wingers that he's sort of redeemed during the course of the movie. But that complexity's what keeps me from becoming bored with filmmaking. We dehumanize people with different perspectives than our own-for me, filmmaking is about projecting myself into other people's points of view. And, frankly, if I, as an artist, have any axe to grind, it's promoting relativism over black and white ways of looking at the world. I'm extremely lucky in wanting to find humanity in people who are different from me.
Is that sort of like seeing your opponents with their pants down?
Well, I'm not sure I'd like to see these characters with their pants down. I just try to empathize with them. I mean, it's thrilling for me to get out of myself. I think that's what must draw actors to their profession-this idea that you can be someone else for a little while. That's at the core of what excites me about storytelling.
You come from a privileged background, with access to the powers that be. How has that impacted your career?
Well, I was exposed to many eccentric people because a lot of successful people are really weird. My dad [John Weitz] was a fashion designer, my mom was an actress and my grandfather was an agent for Billy Wilder, John Huston and Ingemar Bergman-with whom I went to the circus as a child.
From them, I gained an understanding of Hollywood-my grandmother describes going to Billy Wilder's research screenings, how stressed they were about audience reactions and whether to make changes. One thinks the perils of Hollywood filmmaking are recent, but they've gone on for ages-and all the while, interesting films have been made within the Hollywood system.
My career's had a perverse arch-most people do indie films, then sell-out and go to Hollywood. I started by selling-out-making money as a Hollywood screenwriter-then got to make my personal films. I had interesting Hollywood connections but clearly squandered them because it took me seven years before I got my name on a film.
And your brother, Chris. Are you still working together?
On the last two films Chris functioned as an excellent critic for what I've been doing. After About a Boy he wanted a break, but I wanted to make In Good Company. If I didn't do it, I would've been resentful, so it was an easy decision. My only concern was whether it would adversely affect our friendship, but as it turns out, it's been great to work separately because then when we're together we talk about things other than work.
Do your films represent your American dream?
Mostly. I don't think low and high culture are that different. I don't distinguish between American Pie and About a Boy.
About a Boy seems more sophisticated, but I think both Hugh Grant and I find a certain type of worldliness to be naive-what I term "middlebrow snobbery" about worthwhile culture, when certain kinds of art are taken seriously. Hugh and I share a sense that everything can be art.
Where does American Dreamz fit in?
There's a lot of lowbrow humor. A terrorist in an al-Qaeda training camp singing "Chorus Line" and getting busted by the terrorist captain is pretty lowbrow. There's a sense that if you're discussing these things, you should be more intellectual.
Are you a snob?
Yeah-but I'm a snob about snobs. I grew up among snobs and always thought they were deeply naive. People who're snobs have particular definitions of worldliness that exclude the human experience. I grew up in a doorman building on Park Avenue, but I largely identified with the guys running the elevator more than with people living there. All I can say is thank god because it's made me happier to not have a narrow definition of who I should respect.
OK, last question: Why do you use "z" instead of "s" in Dreamz?
Well, I was thinking of cartoons where somebody's sleeping, they'll have a "z-z-z" in the bubble. The theme of this was actually whether our dreams make us narcotized to reality. That's why I used the "z."