A cursory peek at google tells me that I've invented this term, which is fine by me. By "smug-com," I mean a comedy that scores its points through one or two main characters who are much smarter, have more integrity, and are just plain cooler than everybody else in the movie. The arc of a smug-com puts the lead characters in situations where they confront any number of cartoon ninnies and nitwits, and then gives the characters time to reflect upon how stupid the nitwits are, and how cool they themselves are. (The term "quirky" usually pops up a lot in reviews of smug-coms.) To paraphrase a very apt description from the NY Times review of "Away We Go," smug-com heroes wouldn't like you. They'd look at you with thinly disguised disdain and disgust, and then make cool jokes about you when they left. Smug-coms can appeal to large numbers of people who see themselves as too cool for the room. While I find the overall smug-com premise a major drag, I think there are a few that work, and at least one that's a classic.
I'd date the first smug-com right around 1965, the year "A Thousand Clowns" was released. Jason Robards is Murray Burns, a happy, hyper-verbal non-conformist living as responsibility-free as the guardian of a young nephew can in New York City. Robards is the smart one; everyone he meets is a moron--or someone who needs his happy guidance. The movie sounds reprehensible when I describe it that way, but it works (this one is the classic). The first reason is Robards--great actor, showing some strain, perhaps, from shooting this movie during the day and performing Arthur Miller's "After the Fall" at night, but charming as hell recreating his Broadway role. The second reason is screenwriter (and playwright) Herb Gardner's terrific dialogue--Murray's rants are hilarious and profound. Finally, the key to what elevates a smug-com above its inherent smugness--the movie is brave enough to call Murray on his attitude. That's important--that doesn't mean silly strawman characters telling the smug hero he's wrong (that happens a lot in this movie, as well as in most smug-coms), but the MOVIE ITSELF calls his attitude into question--is he selfishly endangering the welfare of his nephew? The decision Murray makes leads to one of the great freeze-frame endings--funny and sad, fundamentally right, but with no little regret.
"Away We Go" ultimately fails because the two smug heroes are vindicated in their smugness without serious question. It comes close, once, when the heroine asks, "Are we fuck-ups?" If the movie had delivered an honest answer to that question--which is "yes"--it, too, could have achieved greatness--or at least, very good-ness. Other noteworthy smug-coms follow:
"Home for the Holidays"--this time, Holly Hunter and gay brother Robert Downey, Jr. (in my vote for his all-time worst, most out-of-control performance) are the only ones who know which end is up, as Hunter prepares to spend Thanksgiving with the family. This movie scores off clueless supporting characters with sometimes shocking cruelty. Right-wing in-laws sit down to dinner and start intoning, "Cash is king"--because that's what fiscally conservative people naturally do at Thanksgiving dinners. We get to laugh at the crazy, flatulent aunt, who cuts the cheese twice for the heroes' (and ours, presumably) amusement, and we get to laugh at the sad-sack maintenance guy who's had a crush on the heroine since forever. To be fair, the film almost redeems itself in the last five minutes, when we get to see everybody's idea of their greatest day ever--it's a sudden and cleansing burst of humanity, but it arrives a bit too late.
"The Family Stone"--a lot like "Home for the Holidays," but with that crucial difference--the movie calls the smug Stones on their behavior. They treat the Sarah Jessica Parker character with unspeakable cruelty, but we also get to see that the family is acting out of love (this is how smug people love each other). I think this one was largely underrated--it's worth a look.
"American Beauty"--When the pot-smoking (and dealing) next-door neighbor tells off his catering boss, Lester Burnham, the lead character, says with something approaching awe, "You're my new hero." When this movie ended, I had two new heroes, one real, and one fictional. The real hero was actor Kevin Spacey, who found a way to infuse both his "loser" character and the smug-com in general with fresh attitude--the character takes a perversely smug pride in how total a loser he's become. And the fictional hero--Lester Burnham, who undergoes a worm-turning transition that's funny and gratifying as he tells all of his tormentors (including his family) where to get off. The movie would have been great fun if it had stopped there, but Lester and the movie go one step further--they call his new-found freedom into question as well, with the idea that Lester's still missing out on something deeper and greater. Whether Lester figures it out just in time or a little too late depends on your perspective. Okay, I'm going to go ahead and call this one a classic, too (and yes, Sam Mendes directed both this movie and "Away We Go." Clearly, he works the smug side of the street).
As for the smug-coms in general, well, it's easy to shoot fish in barrels. Self-knowledge, and putting self-knowledge into action, is a lot tougher. The great smug-coms don't settle for the easy.
Next time: shoop and hard-earned love
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