Ghost World (2001)

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Ghost World (2001) – T. Zwigoff

Back in 2001, Terry Zwigoff finally released another movie (after his doco Crumb, 1994), a live action version of Daniel Clowes’ graphic novel starring Thora Birch as a disaffected teenager and Scarlett Johansson as her best friend. At first, the film is all reaction shots – mostly Birch’s Enid rolling her eyes at the lame mainstream attitudes and behaviours of her peers.  She is definitely an alternative punk rock chick but Johansson’s Becky is less so, something which eventually become a point of difference between them.  Indeed, the film is pitch perfect in its grasp of the way that teens differ from adults, particularly in the way that adults “sell out” (or do not “sell out”) their original views.  Steve Buscemi plays Seymour, a self-acknowledged “dork” who collects old blues 78s and hasn’t had a girlfriend in four years.  His apartment is decked out in music and movie paraphernalia – it’s kitschy but cool.  Enid’s room is similar (but different) and you can see why the two are eventually drawn to each other – as friends (though the romantic tension is always there despite the big age difference).  Enid decides to find Seymour a girlfriend – and, inevitably, that girlfriend (Stacey Travis) is a lot more mainstream than he is.  And slowly, slowly, he begins to sell out, causing consternation for Enid, especially as Becky also begins to change, getting a job, seeking an apartment in a yuppie neighbourhood and wanting some yuppie stuff.  Enid is too defiant, too different, too unwilling to sell out -- it’s hard not to identify with her, particularly if you also felt different during your teens and twenties (i.e., felt a part of “alternative” culture).   And it’s hard not to feel those bittersweet pangs of acknowledgment as you look back on the many ways that you yourself have sold out those original ideals (as misdirected as they sometimes were) or perhaps we should say “compromised”?  Zwigoff’s film manages to have it both ways – standing up for the outsider but recognising that there are consequences of not fitting in and not compromising.  Should I add that it’s a comedy? A knowing one, a dark one.  Perhaps not everything has aged well (it feels somehow too materialistic) but it manages to burn a hole in your heart, if you’re of a certain age and inclination.