Correndo con le forbici in mano

I have read 2 of Agustine Bourroughs novels and I was, frankly, a little afraid that this one might be ruined by being re-cast as a movie. With this story in the hands of this director and this cast, my fears were groundless: it translated beautifully. I am sure that this is in no small part due to Burroughs personal involvement in the production, but greater authors have had their work ruined right under their noses, so it is a credit to both Author and creative staff that the engaging story remains intact. I think it gives a truthful depiction of what it is like to grow-up with mental illness in the family and also presents a metaphor for the craziness and dysfunction which is, at some level, in every family. The cast was all superb, especially Annette Benning and Jill Clayburgh. Joseph Cross and Joseph Fiennes were equally superb -- in fact, EVERYONE was so good I almost don't want to single anyone out. I will recommend this movie to friends.

If ever a movie taught me not to let critics influence my decision to see something, this is it.

I remember when this came out in the theater and the overall consensus of the major critics was that this film was a huge disappointment, if not a complete failure. Wow. (scratches head)

Having been a huge fan of the book (I read it twice before I saw the film) I went to see it anyway without high expectations, and was surprised to say the least. I love this film, and it brought me to tears several times. And like other posters, I thought that it was a rare film adaptation that does justice to the book and then some.

Aside from the fact the film remains true to the book, which will please many fans, the performances are excellent across the board. Annette Bening, in my humble opinion, was robbed of an Oscar nomination. She delivers nothing less than a tour-de-force. I mean, it truly amazes me how she was overlooked along with this whole movie. And Joseph Cross should have had a nomination as well. He shines the light and the heartbreak in this boy with dead-on accuracy. This is a remarkable story that I guess is hard to believe for many people, even in the strange, dysfunctional world we live in. I think all of the actors made this story truly believable. Even Gwyneth, who has very little screen time unfortunately, makes the most of it, with a wonderfully low-key, quirky turn. Her scene cooking "the stew", in braids, is one of my favorite moments. And how could they not notice Jill Clayburgh??!! She manages to ground this story, ironically, with sanity. She conveys grace and maternal love and kindness, wringing these emotions from an almost grotesquely-written character. No easy feat. I will admit Evan Rachel Wood is the only actor I felt was a bit miscast if you are being true to the book. She's just cooler and sexier than I imagined the character to be. But she reminded me of someone else i grew up with in an uncanny way, that's how good she is at balancing smart and damaged, as a girl who grew up too fast for her own good, but somehow manages to prevail. I loved her nonetheless, just in a different way than I did in the book.

The pacing, the tone, the lighting, the music, the respect the director showed this story is really stunning as well. Anyone who grew up in the late 70's (like myself) in a dysfunctional home with a rather eccentric mother will probably experience this as movie magic, and feel uncomfortably at home watching this, like being transported back in time. You may even smell your mother's shag carpeting and scented candles like I did. The clothing the characters are wearing, especially Augusten, made me feel like I was back in grade school myself...wearing a polyester plaid vest and tie and out-of-synch with my peers. The imagery really rang true for me, along with "Your the poetry man" playing in the background.

Maybe the problem was that not a lot of people can relate to this story, and it seems too preposterous for them to even suspend their disbelief for a couple of hours? I've never felt compelled to write a commentary up here until now because I really believe this work was done an injustice by the critics. However I don't think, as a viewer, you would necessarily need to relate to this story to enjoy the film. But I can't help but wonder if I'm wrong about that, because it might explain the poor reception from so many critics.

I also trust completely that over time many will discover this movie and be moved to both laughter and tears, and be completely absorbed in it. It's a twisted, sometimes hilarious but mostly heartbreaking tale, based on true events, and it is, in my opinion, a beautiful film. It's a gem.

Well, one thing you can't say about this film is that it doesn't try to be different, even if it ultimately resembles a number of independent US 'dysfunctional family' movies. The trouble is it sometimes comes across as being too clever and, for all its quirky characters - who should be drawing you into their world and lives - the film stubbornly holds the audience at arm's length. This is a major weakness, because it leaves you feeling like you're watching animals in a zoo or specimens under a microscope rather than real people with real emotions.

The immediate suspicion about memoirs is that they are the memories (real or manufactured - but that's an entirely different can of worms) of just one person in the story, and that the other characters have no opportunity to provide their side of that story. The real-life Finch family brought legal action against Augusten Burroughs for the way they were portrayed and the case was settled out of court by Burrough's publishers. This could have been because they didn't want to get involved in a potentially damaging and expensive court case, or it might have been because the Finches had a strong case - either way the fact of the settlement is bound to cast some doubt over the truth of Burrough's tale.

With regards to the film itself, it's something of a trudge for the most part. This is despite the fact that every single part is played to perfection by an eclectic cast. Brian Cox, whose career appears to become more successful the older he gets, is especially good as the crackpot psychiatrist who adopts the 15-year-old Burroughs (Joseph Cross), welcoming him into an eccentric and disturbed family. Annette Bening also gives a terrific performance, even though her character becomes increasingly annoying as the film goes on (only Jill Clayburgh and Alec Baldwin's characters emerge with any kind of dignity). Although the film tends to drag at times, when it shines it really shines, especially with the use of some well-chosen songs from the 70s. The sequence played out to Al Stewart's Year of the Cat is particularly memorable, and it's a shame that these moments are distributed so sparingly amongst the more pedestrian material.

This is not an awful movie nor isn't it a recommendation of mine but Augusten Burrough's life seems gypped with this rendition. Obviously, Annette Bening was glorious as the misdirected, doped, self-important woman who has been stripped of a goal in life, something she is not innocent in ruining herself. Additionally, Jill Clayburgh hits another high note as she inhabits her role as expertly as Bening. Obviously, the women shine here. In fact, none of the actors fail the film for acting chops. Unfortunately, the bent and disturbed early life of Augusten Burroughs almost seems zapped of his personal joy and awe at his wild surroundings. Augusten was inspired by these events not just a victim of them. A problem the casting had was for its main character. Joseph Cross seems miscast in that he is clearly much too old to fill his shoes. An important fact is that Augusten was a minor involved in a lopsided affair with a man much older than he. In this casting, Fiennes and Cross could have been schoolmates so the legal point of "statutory rape" seems quite lost nor is there any indication of how his strength evolved out of this relationship. Augusten's writings delve into and reveal his flamboyance and vanity as well as his apparent jubilation at having such a disturbed upbringing. Augusten in the film becomes merely a secondary character with very little interaction. It's almost not about him. As a heartbreaking dissection of how family members can cripple each other and have their dreams implode, this film soars. It might have been better as fiction but Augusten Burroughs' personality on film doesn't evolve except for some minor wardrobe changes. There's a lot more pain, destruction and crying here than any amazement at it all, a much more distinct element in Burroughs' writing. It hardly skirts how funny and clever he is on paper.

Running with Scissors reviewed by Sam Osborn

I've become all too wary of memoirs lately. Not because of the James Frey debacle, but because they've become the literary equivalent of the biopic at the movies. Just as I've grown tired of seeing the rise and inevitable fall of infamous icons during Oscar season, I've grown tired of plowing through the literary lives of men and women compelled to account their abusive childhoods, sexual deviancy, problems with drugs and alcohol, and, the real must, their harebrained families. The books sell well because readers love gossip, scandal, and melodrama. Running with Scissors has no shortage of such pulpy details, as its hero, Augusten Burroughs, has all the makings of memoir sentimentality. He was born into a selfish, dysfunctional family, adopted by his mother's psychiatrist, attempted suicide, turned out to be gay, and was exposed to sex at a young age under the hands of a man much past his age. His life was, if nothing else, screwed up enough to put into a book. But while I'm a pessimist to the genre, Running with Scissors is strange and psychotically contagious.

To oversimplify the matter, the film is a collection of people dealing with their issues. Heading up the Burroughs family is Norman Burroughs (Alec Baldwin), a business man with the sedated lick of alcoholism whose only wish seems to be to sidestep his wife's raging narcissism. Dierdre (Annete Bening), his wife, is a selfish would-be writing starlet whose lack of talent is constantly at odds with the confidence that she deserves a Nobel Prize. Her failure she blames on the supposed acts of sabotage by Norman, of which she confides in her only son Augusten. The family begins counseling with Doctor Finch (Brian Cox), the man who eventually adopts Augusten when Norman walks out and Dierdre begins popping Valium like prescription Skittles. The Finch family seems to be no upgrade though, as Agnes (Jill Clayburgh), the mother, is first seen munching on dog kibble, Hope (Gwyneth Paltrow), the favored daughter, is known to talk to her cat Freud, and Natalie (Evan Rachel Wood), the second daughter, tries to open Augusten up by using electro-shock therapy. Their home is an old-money palace painted blazing pink, with various lawn furniture, cobbled windows, and a Christmas tree that's been erect for over two years.

My Mother happens to be mildly obsessed with Augusten Burroughs. She speaks of his stories and literary adventures as though they're the loopy reveries of a second son she birthed into paperback. So several months ago I took her to our hometown bookshop, The Boulder Bookstore, to see Mr. Burroughs speak on his most recent book, Magical Thinking. I'd read a few of his stories at my Mom's urgent requests and flipped through a couple chapters of his first memoir (the film's source), Running with Scissors, in preparation. I knew enough, I felt, to hold my own in a book signing. But as the first hand was raised during the Q&A segment of the presentation, a woman asked how Augusten's dog was doing, how his partner was holding up, if they'd purchased that house he mentioned, and if those shoes were still in mint condition. I was obviously behind the curve. Mr. Burroughs has entrusted so much of his intimate life with his writing. It's organic and swelling with humor drawn from a frank self-awareness that doesn't embarrass him or his readers. His audience isn't a third-party to his life, they're all his closest friends; quite a job for rookie feature Writer/Director Ryan Murphy.

Murphy approaches the material very cinematically, using every magic trick offered to him by his technicians. This is no shaky, documentary-style memoir that shreds cinema to the tatters of the broken characters on screen. Murphy's characters are heightened to hyperbolic altitude, but are anchored to a reality only gotten from the pages of non-fiction accounting. His film is tightly-knit, too, with every line of dialogue truly used and with characters' stories intertwined into a family of glowing psychosis. It makes for a film constructed from quirk and color, but Murphy's characters can't seem to escape from being so human. They deal with their issues, but like humans, rarely manage to solve them. It can be appalling and sometimes painful, but Burroughs and Murphy's stories are just too lovely to turn your back to.

Rating: 3.5 out of 4

Sam Osborn