Gray's Anatomy

There is not much that beats a well told tale. If it is told through television or film, a good storyteller is worth more than a billion dollars of special effects. This little film tickles and delights and causes us to ponder the wonders of medicine and the human psyche.

Spalding Gray has a "photographic memory" which allows him to describe things in fascinating detail. He also has a rather neurotic take on the world, just slightly askew from the norm...which allows us to enjoy a more entertaining vantage point. Above all, Mr. Gray loves to spin a tale. He delights in sharing stories and tying them all together in one general rant.

This particular one-man-rant appealed to me even more than his others. Perhaps I liked it because I sought alternatives cures to my own illness and know all the crazies out there. Perhaps I liked it because I was raised by an optometrist and worked in his office a few summers...just enough to appreciate his eye condition (macular pucker) and his fear. Whatever the reason, I really enjoyed this and want to share it with all my friends now.

But that's why some people love Spalding Gray. And although I do not fall into that category, per se, I was very entertained by this 80-minute monologue -- told in ranting New Yorker mannerisms that are nonetheless fairly endearing -- about what Gray should do about his macular pucker.

The macular pucker, we learn in great detail, is an eye condition that must ultimately be "scraped" in order to restore normal vision. Gray, a born Christian Scientist and an enduring doctor-phobe, walks around New York City, tearing his hair out while choosing among the opinions of an array of quacks who weigh in on the issue. (Or, at least, he describes himself doing this -- the whole film is a series of closeups of Gray in a studio, with various visual stimuli applied to him, through the wonderful direction of the visionary Steven Soderbergh). Through the course of the narrative he describes near-slapstick visits to a Native American sweat lodge, a Phillipino doctor who is the Elvis of healers, a quirky New Jersey "dietary opthalmologist" and several others. It's all told with great storytelling verve, and occasional moments of poignancy.

The film also consists of a series of short documentary interviews with about 8 survivors of eye trauma, who each nearly lost (or in some cases did) vision in stomach-churning ways. Their occasional thoughts on the healing process are very fascinating.

Because of its odd structural format, the one-man narrative film threatens to fall by the wayside. Not that it has ever been a particularly popular form, but its appeal is perhaps dwindling further as our attention spans, and ability to sit through prolonged stories, deteriorate. However, Gray, with a boost from Soderbergh, gives the genre a good name -- and hope

Director Steven Soderbergh, best known for the Ocean's Eleven / 12 / 13 etc movies, makes an experimental movie now and then. This is one of them, BUT...

The bad: this is not really a movie though, it is a contineous monologue from a dude I didnt know, but apparently is famous in America (apologies to the fans of this dude Spalding Gray).

The monologue isnt bad, but it is not really a movie. And I wanted to see a MOVIE.

Not any good then? For anyone interested in watching a documentary with a comical look at alternate treatments for eye diseases THIS is your pick. Especially the real life interviews with folks suffering from several forms of severe eye diseases or injuries, especially those personal stories are flabbergasting to listen to. But they only last about 20 minutes.

The rest of the movie is the same contineous monologue by this dude Spalding Gray, that may or may not interest you... I couldnt really be bothered. I'd rather listen to the radio...

I saw this film a couple of times when it aired on cable, and didn't really know who the director was at the time. I recognized Spalding Gray, as I had seen at least one other of his one-man monologue movie/shows that pop up every now and again on TV. His style of telling stories is sardonic, sad, a tinge in the cynical, always pointing out idiosyncrasies when he can, and always with a sense of the truth. When I found out that this particular one, Gray's Anatomy, was directed by Steven Soderbergh, it finally made sense. Because the style of the project fits the rest of the director's oeuvre without a misstep. It might not be one his great films, but he makes material that should, in what would really be the right reason, be on a stage somewhere off-Broadway (not off-off but not on it either) into something much more compelling for the screen. He uses a combination of varied angles, experimental lighting with colored filters, lenses, the lengths messed up, and messes with light and dark. His DP, Elliot Davis, also a very good asset on Out of Sight, makes this a key part of the engrossment (or what might be for others a distance) in the material. And of course the editing makes one pay attention to bits more closely than others, or accentuates some of the points that Gray makes. The music chimes in unconventionally as well.

In this particular case, Gray is talking about health, but more than anything his own as he goes through the process of going to doctors, finding out his illness, getting it cured, et all. But it's not really all that simple, due to some of Gray's own neuroses and other bits of problems that come up, one or two his though mostly on the end of the eccentric doctors and others along his trip. This is not all, however, because through this story of fixing a real medical problem, it off-shoots into bits of topics about New York, Judaism, and his family. Soderbergh understands more than anything the mind-set of a guy like Gray, what he might have had, and the best a director like he can do is keep up with the sparks in the material. It's a good one man-show given better directorial treatment. It flirts with overkill in the style (only so much one man can take even in 80 minutes), but in the end after seeing it more than once I felt comfortable not just with the style but, more importantly, Gray himself. It's like style in a three-legged race to the finish with the substance, as the quirks in each threaten to tumble on another over. And, to be sure, it's under the radar enough in the indie-world to keep its ambitions only so reaching. B+

Like several of Spalding Gray's stage monologues "Gray's Anatomy" has been given the full feature film treatment, this time by "Sex Lies & Video" helmer Steven Soderberg. Gray's discovery of a visual malady leads him to medical and homeopathic treatment and serious consideration of the query "What is it you don't want to see?"

This 90 minute monodrama is not opened-up in the traditional sense. Rather it is supplemented by monochrome interviews with Joe and Jane Q. Publics about their particular eye problems. Within the monologue itself, Soderberg employs a variety of lighting and camera trickery to keep the action from stagnating. Mostly, it is a successful endeavor. Though, oddly, the film lacks the overall impact of Gray's "Swimming To Cambodia" or even the lesser (but simpler done) "Monster in a Box". A fine addition to the Gray library.