Revisiting Alexandre Rockwell's ‘In the Soup’ (1992)
"For in that city [New York] there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy." ~Evelyn Waugh
Aldolfo Rollo, a budding filmmaker who's moved to New York with big dreams but sadly no budget crosses paths with Joe, an over-enthusiastic and unprincipled financier with loads of black money to throw around, and who's the second shadiest 'Joe' in cinematic history since Grandpa Joe from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'. Seemingly enamoured with Aldolfo's equally over-ambitious drive and ideas, Joe promptly takes this desperate underdog under his wing, hyping him up and even climbing into bed with him at one point (that's Hollywood for you...I guess?).
The initially insecure and usually boarded-up Aldolfo revels in this newfound boost to his morale, emboldened by a generous investor and furthermore a godfather who's made of sterner stuff than he is, whom he can confide in and who not only offers to fund his filmmaking endeavours, but even goes so far as to indulge in a balderdash first draft that reeks of pretence (a running theme of the film), even offering him solid advice on discarding his self-importance and staying grounded by not underestimating his audience's intelligence. However, have the heavens really opened up for Aldolfo Rollo or is he accidentally just stuck with a proverbial devil dancing a jig on his shoulder who's just as delusional and prone to self-importance as he is...with connections to the mob no less? (again, that's Hollywood for you!)
Unstructured in its storytelling and filmed in black and white, ‘In the Soup’ is crafted with a whole lot of heart and sincerity and thus manages to deliver a much-needed message, or rather some much-needed clarity/reassurance on this chaotic ordeal known as life, almost feeling like a survival tale as our characters are challenged with real-world obstacles that range from apartment rents that skyrocket as and when the greedy landlords (with a penchant for musical numbers) dictate, to losing one's sense of direction in a big city where it's easy to be blinded by delusions of grandeur, as well as succumbing to the temptations of turning into a copycat by piggybacking off the ideas of the greats such as Renoir and Tarkovsky, many of whom Aldolfo looks up to.
Viewers might even feel as if they're watching the highly imaginative Aldolfo's carefully crafted artistic vision unfold onscreen right before their very eyes, albeit with a lot less pretence and a few rewrites- A movie within a movie, if you will. Come to think of it, a wide shot of Aldolfo painting the words 'Un Film Di Aldolfo Rollo' in all caps onto the side of a building at his day job might in fact be an obvious indicator of what's to come.
The movie also shapes up to be a fairly grounded take on the arduous immigrant experience for both the 'outsider' leads- As Aldolfo is initially fine and dandy taking up manual labour in the strange city that he now calls home until the time comes when he is a household name, but is also prone to being ensnared by some exploitative folk who promise him a quick paycheck in return for quite literal exposure, a hasty and regretful act that causes him much grief whenever it resurfaces on television. On the other hand, his next-door neighbour, a barista named Angelica who unknowingly doubles as Aldolfo's muse and is probably the most sensible character in this movie leads an ordinary existence with her noisy nephews but also faces a similar predicament in the form of a sleazy ex resurfacing after a hasty, messy and ill-advised green card marriage that she too begins to regret.
Lastly, the poignant moments in this movie aren't forced. In fact, a majority of its charm-infused sequences, one of which includes Aldolfo teaching Angelica's nephew to use a camera or filming his lady love as she twirls atop the snowy rooftop of their apartment building, were improvised by the cast members at Rockwell's behest. As a result, even random interactions with minor characters who are added to a cauldron of soup that eventually threatens to spill over and leave a mess on the kitchen top provide for some of its most profound moments, such as when a vulnerable man suffering from the onset of dementia (whose house Joe and an unwilling Aldolfo break into as they run low on budget) initiates an impromptu and tender conversation after mistaking Aldolfo for his son.
The performances too are quite riveting, regardless of how much or little screen time is devoted to the ensemble of both major and minor players. Steve Buscemi exudes innocence as Aldolfo, the starry-eyed but displaced lamb who finds himself trapped in a decrepit maze designed by wolves and who was once rejected but now accepted (if you spotted those ‘Hunt for the Wilderpeople’ references, here’s a cookie, fellow Taikaholic!). His chemistry with co-star Jennifer Beals who plays Angelica also feels timeless, and a cute moment of Aldolfo gushing over how she's perfectly cast, just as the angel he'd envisioned is bound to leave one with all the warm, fuzzy feels! Apart from the refreshing Beals-Buscemi pairing, Sam Rockwell is equally endearing in an early sighting as Angelica's nephew.
Seymour Cassel has free rein as the devil-may-care Joe, a subversion of the 'magical minority' trope (magical Italian American mob boss?) who’s too good to be true, quick on his feet despite his elderly gentleman façade, and whose eyes glisten with ploys to solve every problem, but who more often than not also abuses his power through blackmail and spinning yarns better than his screenwriter companion. Will Patton is intimidating as the perpetually snarling and cryptic Skippy, a mob boss who amusingly suffers from a phobia of travelling through tunnels but won't hesitate when it comes to delivering incoherent threats to our protagonist via phone. Stanley Tucci's cameo as Gregoire the dubious French ex, complete with an accent that's a cross between baguette and Borat, acts as the catalyst for a memorable and minute ode to the classic fairytale of ‘Cinderella’ when the lovelorn Aldolfo is left with one of Angelica's shoes at his apartment. Tucci's comic timing is especially impeccable during his brief scene that features a comical, bordering on double-meaning exchange about a fire escape between his character and Aldolfo. Elizabeth Bracco's brief cameo as the playful and teasing Jackie is also worthy of mention.
Eventually, 'In the Soup' conveys that while the world may be our oyster, one still has to pass through its dingy, cramped, chaos-prone corridors, thus encountering the unlikeliest of friends and foes and malicious strangers disguised as business partners alike, and occasionally coming up short due to a locked fire escape. And the temperature surely isn't going to remain perfect either. Although if this subtle allegorical approach doesn't immediately sell this strangely endearing film to you, then the scene of Steve Buscemi/Aldolfo nervously preparing for a big date night on New Year's Eve by learning the basics of cha cha cha the old-fashioned way (via an altogether confusing to follow audio cassette) certainly might!