There is a moment in Lost in America where it is made abundantly clear that Albert Brooks is not simply a great comedian, but has finally achieved brilliance as a filmmaker as well. It occurs towards the end of the film, when Brooks’ character returns to his humble mobile home, where he and his wife, played by the incomparable Julie Hagerty, are reunited after a day of seeking work (a result of their attempts to “drop out” of society and spend the rest of their lives travelling the United States, living off a nest egg that they carelessly lost right at the start), only to be greeted with the question: “so, what are you?”. He reveals he is a crossing guard, while she remarks that she has been hired as the assistant manager at Der Wienerschnitzel, which appears to be exactly what it sounds like. It’s a simple moment, but one that comes right at the end of one of the funniest films of the 1980s, a deliciously twisted and bizarre comedy about capitalism, and the occasional renegades that believe they can cheat this well-constructed system that has influence on all spheres of everyday life, only to realize that escaping the machine is far more difficult than it appears, if it is even possible in the first place. Brooks is a filmmaker I have been spending the past few months intricately exploring, both as an actor and a filmmaker – and Lost in America is often considered his masterpiece, coupled with perhaps only Defending Your Life as his best work – and while the latter is probably his best performance (give or take Broadcast News), it is Lost in America that is possibly his finest achievement as a writer and a director – and taking this brief moment mentioned above, and comparing it to the other 90 minutes of wildly inventive and unique humour, it’s tough to belittle this film and refer to it as anything other than an impeccably-crafted comedy that dares to go with few others would even attempt – and for that reason alone, it’s an extremely special work of distinct humour and filmmaking prowess.

Brooks is not the most versatile director, which is meant less in a way of implying that he is limited as an artist, but rather that he knows how to hone his particular set of skills to a specific kind of storytelling – as we’ve seen in the past, when it comes to acting, he is perfectly willing to venture further than ever before, but within his own films, he sticks to similar characters and plot points that he knows will work, just altering the specific stories and situations in which they appear. One of the most consistent qualities in Brooks’ films are that they take very simple stories, and repurpose them as the foundation for some of the most hilarious scenarios, drawing humour from the most common situations. The premise of Lost in America is not particularly complex, but rather one that is a lot more relatable and interesting – essentially, how many of us (normally during a busy workday, or perhaps at the end of one) just wish that we could jump into a camper van and travel across the country or world, living off the earth and consuming culture and nature as spiritual and mental nourishment? This is the impetus for Lost in America, but naturally it’s not one that ends where it initially seemed to – Brooks knows the audience better than to just give us a run-of-the-mill road trip comedy, since those have been done many times before. Instead, he’s taking us on a hilariously irreverent journey, both literally and metaphorically, into the heartland of America, as he tells a story of two people who grew sick of being comfortable, and instead put themselves through the challenges that come with packing up and leaving, which they soon discover isn’t nearly as pioneering as they thought, since there are innumerable

A good rule of thumb when watching an Albert Brooks film: if something can go wrong in the story, it absolutely will. Despite being one of the most endearing and lovable comedic forces of his generation, Brooks has a very distinct cynicism to how the world works, telling stories that may be upbeat and funny, but which find the majority of their humour derived from hilariously awkward situations. Nothing can go right in a Brooks film, and it is in this discomfort that we find the most hilarious material. Lost in America is not a completely coherent film in terms of a narrative – it has an overarching structure, and does get to a particular point, but it serves as a series of vignettes in the adventurous exploits of these two characters, as they notice their dreams for the future are steadily declining, each new moment proving that they are sinking further into an inescapable crisis. It’s a relentlessly funny approach, since we can deconstruct any of these scenes to find the most potent and unforgettable details that come across in Brooks’ magnificent screenplay, which he directs with a great deal of dedication. It’s always recommended going into one of his films expecting the unexpected – after all, he doesn’t normally take these stories too far, but he does add some well-placed surprises throughout them, keeping us engaged while we watch the world fall apart for these people, whose only shortcoming was that they genuinely seemed to believe that the world wasn’t hostile enough to constantly test them on their resilience. Good comedy is a blend of strong writing and fitting reactions – and no one knows this better than Brooks, who has built an entire career out of his off-kilter responses to various stimuli in his immediate environment, which makes Lost in America an even more fascinating glimpse into the American way of thinking.

The trope of good people finding themselves in difficult (but not traumatizing) situations is well-documented throughout comedy, and Lost in America is one of the most effective in this regard, it’s very interesting approaching to looking at how these characters deal with various challenges making for an enduring work of comedy. This is all fertile ground for a lot of insightful and funny comedy, all of which Brooks makes sure it exceptionally demonstrated throughout the film, commenting on deeper issues without being the dour or unnecessarily convoluted commentary that we’d expect – the comedy is precise and the social critique razor-sharp, which makes a considerable difference in how we engage with this film. It also helps considerably that Lost in America has a pair of tremendous performances at the centre – unlike many comedians that make films as vehicles for their personas, Brooks actually puts in the work in the hopes of turning in a fantastic performance, and he certainly does. Hagerty is also absolutely spellbinding, continuing her streak of playing lovable, salt-of-the-earth women – and of the many scene partners that Brooks has shared the screen with, Hagerty is certainly one of the most gifted, being a formidable opponent to Brooks’ meandering idealist, functioning as the more level-headed, grounded voice of reason that begins to terrorize him when he realizes that his ambitions were far too big to be realistic. Hagerty grounds the madness incited by Brooks, and they play off each other so well, developing these peculiar characters in a way that feels very much authentic, without sacrificing the inherent absurdist comedy that comes with these individuals and their bizarre existential odyssey that starts to remind them that there is a social structure for a reason, and that perhaps being entrapped in a capitalistic nightmare can actually be something of a relief.

Those expecting a film that sees Brooks and Hagerty jump into a mobile home and travel across the United States is bound to be slightly disappointed, by means that they really are restricted to Los Angeles, Nevada (where most of the story takes place) and eventually Arizona – but this is all part of the brilliance, since there is always the feeling that these characters are finally going to catch a break. Undeniably, any of us would be beyond fortunate to see a film that puts Brooks and his unique comedic stylings in different cultures (it was the foundation for his final directorial effort to date), since he’s such a magnetic performer who can simultaneously play off absolutely anyone, while sticking out like a sore thumb in any situation, which makes the inherent awkwardness of his films all the funnier – but what we received in Lost in America is much more interesting. As an anti-capitalist satire, it is nearly perfect – it reviles the daily grind, but proves that there aren’t any logical alternatives, at least not based on the current direction in which the world is heading. It’s a fascinating character study in the form of an outrageous comedy – and while Real Life had promise, and Modern Romance was tremendous, this film was the first moment that Brooks seemed to be fully establishing himself as a brilliant filmmaker, someone whose small body of work behind the camera equated to many magnificent projects, all of which are wonderfully interesting in their own way – but few reach the heights of Lost in America, which is just the perfect convergence of style, substance and satire, all thrown together in this unhinged voyage into capitalism, and the obstacles faced by two people who were delusional enough to think that they could challenge the system, leading to pure hilarity.