Simon (1980)

The more one observes the rise of scientific research and technological innovation, the further we begin to understand that not everything done in the name of science is supposed to better humanity or serve some enormously admirable purpose – sometimes, it’s just a matter of doing so to see if it can be done, and what the results of a certain experiment can be, which is generally the core of the majority of research conducted over the centuries. This is a question asked by Marshall Brickman in Simon, his debut as a director after years of working as a screenwriter (most notably being a frequent collaborator with Woody Allen, co-writing a number of his most acclaimed films), in which we are introduced to a group of fiercely intelligent scientists who are given unlimited funding and free reign to conduct whatever research they feel is most appropriate. They decide to conduct a thought experiment, in which they will recruit an unknowing participant, who they will brainwash into believing is an extraterrestrial, in the hopes of gleaning new insights into the human mind once it has been overwhelmed with carefully-curated manipulations of reality. Their target is Simon Mendelsohn, an eccentric philosophy professor whose frequent flights of fancy prove that he is already halfway demented, making him a perfect candidate for their experiment. However, it doesn’t take too long for their efforts to spiral out of control and stir discord beyond their quaint think tank, having global implications as Simon reveals himself to be far more dangerous than anyone could have expected. A mostly overlooked comedy from an era where the medium was being more active in its attempts to explore more socially-conscious topics through off-the-wall humour, Simon is effective for the most part, but does tend to falter slightly when it comes to adding substance to most of its ideas, which makes its relative obscurity entirely understandable.

While he had no clear involvement in this film, Simon is a film designed to appeal to the kind of cinema that Woody Allen had curated in the 1970s, serving as a comedy that draws its humour from intellectual commentary coupled with slapstick humour. It’s clear that Brickman was an essential participant in these films, especially since there are obvious correlations between this film and Sleeper, which Brickman co-wrote and seemed to use as the blueprint – both narratively and aesthetically – when crafting this film. It does prove to be quite an audacious debut, since not many filmmakers would be impelled to craft something so incredibly bizarre and layered with complex ideas as their first film – but as someone who had been working in the industry, albeit in a different role, for years, it seems as if Brickman had a good idea of how to explore these themes. Coming at the tail-end of the 1970s when it was conceived, the commentary present in Simon is so blatantly obvious, it borders on being predictable, particularly in the concepts that he chooses to explore. This period was one in which the American public (or even the global population, if you want to look at it more broadly) had grown incredulous of the government, which they viewed as no longer having their best interests in mind. Couple this with the sentiment that scientists were also not working to better society, but rather engage in their own vain experiments in the hopes of becoming notable contributors to a rapidly-evolving technological landscape, and we have the foundation for Simon, which explores how science and politics can work together to create a terrifying socio-cultural landscape, one in which the entire country feels as if it is teetering dangerously close on complete annihilation. The belief that scientists are driven primarily by the principle of proving that something can be done and never stop to assess whether it should be done (as was to be made quite popular a decade later) is the guiding principle behind this film, which sets out to explore the dangers that can emerge when boundaries around scientific research are made more ambigious or removed entirely, and how it can have questionable results in all facets of day-to-day life.

Undeniably, Simon has some terrific ideas, and Brickman demonstrates that he was a fiercely intelligent storyteller, someone who derives a lot of inspiration from real-world scenarios, which always informed the majority of his writing endeavours, especially those that take a more substantial approach to humour. Unfortunately, the film falters in various areas that could have very easily been resolved with certain narrative tools being sharpened. This film is clearly a debut, since Brickman seems to struggle to reconcile high-concept storytelling with the execution of these ideas – there’s an enormous disconnect between the ambition of the story and how it manifests that highlights some very severe shortcomings. Primarily, we find that the film struggles when it comes to developing on its ideas – the initial premise is exceptional, with the first act being a masterful work all on its own (especially since its quite an early example of the mockumentary genre, something that had just been made more notable by Albert Brooks the year prior in Real Life, and would continue to become very prominent as the decade went on), but then gradually losing momentum as it tries to add even more audacious ideas onto something that was already verging on overly labyrinthine, and eventually settling on a climax that should be exciting in theory, but is about as dull and predictable as such a film can be, which is one of the many shortcomings that we find weigh this film down and prevents it from being all that compelling after a while. Brickman has always found more success as a writer, since his ideas are best-suited to the page, and then brought to life by someone who possesses attention to detail and the ability to envision these concepts, but absolutely vital elements that we find don’t quite fit in with what Brickman is doing in this film. Simon is often quite tacky in appearance, being visually dull and uninteresting, and not even in a way that feels purposeful, but rather just lacks anything particularly interesting, and the meandering story doesn’t at all help compensate for these lacklustre elements.

One of the more objectively strong elements of Simon is the central performance by Alan Arkin, who portrays the titular character and once again demonstrates his remarkable prowess at keeping the audience engaged. An actor with an abundance of talent, but also a very unique set of characteristics that made it impossible to pinpoint him to a particular niche (a valuable commodity from a contemporary perspective, but a potential annoyance for executives in the past, where every actor was supposed to fit into some kind of category to be seen as successful), he made a solid career out of playing oddballs and eccentrics, especially at this particular point where he was established enough to have a film sold on his name, but still with enough novelty behind his performances that he could excite viewers to see what he had to offer in any given film. Simon would be a tremendous role for any actor, since they’d be expected to run the gamut in terms of emotions, playing everything from quirky to psychotic, and Arkin relishes the opportunity to let loose and simply bring this offbeat character to life. Another wonderful addition (albeit one that is sadly underused) is Madeline Kahn, who was also at the peak of her popularity, and whose performance as the scientist who weaves in and out of the story proves to be a highlight, especially when it comes to the underlying conversation on gender roles within the scientific community – her character is shown to be more gifted and knowledgeable than the half-dozen scientists that make up this think tank, which may seem like an obvious source of humour, but is oddly played quite sincerely, especially in her interactions with Arkin, who proves to be the perfect patsy for her very comedic but heartfelt performance. Simon does choose the right people to play these roles – a young Wallace Shawn is one of the main supporting players, and an uncredited Louise Lasser is outrageously funny as a sentient computer (who predicted the rise in artificial intelligence, one of the many oddly prescient elements scattered throughout the film), which makes us yearn for a film that used its actors better by giving them a more complex, compelling story to tell.

As far as a film like Simon goes, ambition is certainly valuable, but not to the point where narrative and execution are sacrificed as a result. The film feels like it took a promising concept (and one that will appeal to anyone with an interest in the inner workings of the scientific community, especially when filtered through a more comedic lens) and only develops it halfway. There is a concept known as brennschluss, in which a rocket runs out of fuel but is propelled by the prior momentum, usually being enough to sustain a safe landing of some form. This film is a perfect example of this principle being adapted to a narrative structure, albeit not in a very effective way – it has a good start that feels dynamic and daring, but it eventually loses momentum and struggles to keep moving, eventually becoming quite a dire affair insofar as it never quite lives up to its potential, and squanders the promise it had at the outset, especially when it comes to developing on its fundamental ideas, all of which are shown to be quite limited and one-dimensional after some time. Brickman did direct a few additional films in the coming years, but he also clearly understood that his strengths were more in writing, and while there was potential here, Simon is a middling effort at best, having some good ideas but never really following through on all of them in a way that feels entirely effective or cohesive, at least not in comparison to more polished, compelling science fiction comedies made at the time. It desperately wants to be a ruthlessly funny indictment on the intersections of science and technology as a political tool, but outside of sporadic bursts of brilliance, the film is a mediocre affair at the best of times, and ultimately doesn’t amount to all that much, becoming an understandably obscure title that is forming a bit of a cult following, but ultimately doesn’t amount to being all that notable in any instance.

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