My Dinner with Andre or My Breakfast with Blassie?
Sometimes big, dumb, and stupid is the way to go.
This post is a break of sorts from me talking about cancer quality of life issues, but also not really. Still, that component is fairly minimal in this particular “share”. Don’t let that stop you from reading this objectively brilliant post.
It is seemingly just a comparison of two films, but hopefully, it is much more than that for certain discerning readers. If not, anyone reading this will surely learn more about me and how I think.
“My Dinner with André” is a 1981 film by internationally acclaimed director Louis Malle. It was written and stars Wallace Shawn (playwright and the “INCONCEIVABLE!” guy from The Princess Bride) and André Gregory (internationally acclaimed play director and actor). The basic plot is that two guys go have dinner together and talk about all sorts of worldly philosophy while mildly challenging each other. There’s more than that but that’s basically it.
The film is almost universally loved by film critics and cinephiles for its daring lack of predictable film devices and is non-pandering to viewers with its heady content. It’s billed as a drama/comedy, but the comedy isn’t the gut-busting kind. It’s easy to miss and if you do catch it then it’ll likely make you smile and say “Oh that was kinda funny” instead of actually laughing. It’s been ranked as one of the best films of the 1980s and is taught in many university film studies courses.
And yet, I am not a fan of the movie. This is an opinion that I hold on many levels.
For starters, there is some good in this movie. I really like the shot at the start of the film of the INCONCEIVABLE! guy (playing a struggling playwright) hurriedly putting on a tie before going into the restaurant where he’ll be trying to schmooze with a once-famous play director turned eccentric world traveler. It’s a nice touch that says a lot about the character.
And that’s about it. The rest is a snooze fest.
Look, I get that lots of people will disagree with me, but hang on a little longer. I think I can make this more interesting for those of you thinking I’m an ill-bred neophyte.
But it’s not just boring. I spent twenty-plus years in the film and television world and technically, this movie is a wreck as well. The shot framing is rather pedestrian even for low-budget basic cable tv (where I spent many years). The audio levels are all over the place which is a film-making 101 type problem. If it’s really trying to accomplish something new and avant-garde with its framing, I can point to numerous preceding examples of art films that tell richer stories with much less wordy dialogue, more minimalistic shot selection, and interesting sound choices.
But the bigger problem is that the dialogue is terribly written. I might cut it some slack if this were being performed at a local community theater, but this is LOUIS “FUCKING” MALLE. While I prefer the work of French New Wave directors like Francois Truffaut, Louis is undoubtedly legit in the world of film. I suspect dude realized he could shoot the whole thing in a day or two (two weeks actually) and make the same dough so he mailed it in. Then the critics ate it up because… ya know… he’s European so he must be up to something deep.
Look, I’ve had dinner with many snooty, pretentious types and this is not what it sounds like. I know this intimately because I am one of those snooty, pretentious types.
Asshole fucks like me aren’t going to talk about a wide array of deep philosophical thoughts like these two do. We might get into one or two before even WE tire of our own bullshit. And what we’d get into would be far more in-depth than much of this basic smarty-pants starter pack tripe. This movie is more like the idea of what most people think intellectual arty types sound like than reality. Like how some people think Joe Rogan is smart because he states his opinions boldly despite having any substance to back them up. My guess is that most people claiming to love this film have never actually seen it or thought much about its discussion with any real depth.
It’s fucking terrible.
That brings us to “My Breakfast with Blassie”, a 1982 film starring Tony Clifton-impersonator and lung cancer “survivor” Andy Kaufman as well as famed pro-wrestling performer/manager and chanteuse “Classy” Freddie Blassie.
Now you may think I’m joking when I state this but I am 100% serious about it.
“My Breakfast with Blassie” is not only a better-made film, but it’s also far more avant-garde and philosophically inciteful.
This is where things may get more interesting for some of you. Or not. No worries, I’ll have a post on something completely different sometime next week.
I would post a trailer for the movie but the only one I could find was just the first minute of the film. I did, however, find numerous copies of the entire thing on YouTube so here’s one of those. That it’s essentially lived on in this way is pretty fucking punk rock. It’s above the shallow, capitalistic materialism of Hollywood. It needs no place on any best-of lists. It is confident enough on its own to not need critical praise or mass acceptance.
I don’t know much about this movie other than it was made in what appears to be a few hours and, save for a few lines stolen and altered from the “André” movie as well as a few planned “interruptions”, is essentially all improvised. Real conversation and real character arcs. Yet, still completely fake.
The “Blassie” movie is clearly intended to be a far less intellectual and more accessible endeavor. It’s a pro wrestler and a tv sitcom star, right? Wrong. It is in the basic premise and ensuing presentation that this film is INFINITELY more thought-provoking
Now I’m not some anti-intellectual jackass. If anything, I’m an intellectual jackass. I am exquisitely brilliant at finding deep meaning in things others often miss. I mean, have you read my review of the forgotten classic that is “They Call Me Bruce?”? You’re welcome.
But seriously, Andy and Blassie both give stunning performances as themselves. Kaufman is the INCONCEIVABLE! guy to Blassie’s André. All four actors are playing fictionalized versions of themselves. Yet, it’s just done to far greater effect in the movie that’s meant to be a spoof of the other.
Kaufman, despite being a much bigger celebrity than Freddie Blassie at the time, is clearly in awe of him throughout the film. This in of itself is a statement about celebrity and never being satisfied with one’s position in life.
While the INCONCEIVABLE! guy goes from desperate sycophant to slightly less sycophant, Kaufman goes from lovable, goofball fan to unlikeable delusional semi-stalker who stays up late telling random strangers about his breakfast with his hero.
Meanwhile, André the character goes from a gross white guy searching for faux spiritualism with a side cultural fetishism to a slightly less gross version of that. Blassie comes off initially as an ill-mannered and gruff old simpleton to a more complex adorable curmudgeon who actually expresses care for a fan. He’s still kinda off-putting with his demeanor, but it’s easier to accept,not to mention a more radical transformation than most characters go through in any film or television series.
You may laugh but the dynamic character shifts in “Blassie” vs “André” is pro-level story-telling. It’s just better “written” and “performed”. By intentionally not pretending to be some sort of intellectual avant-garde experiment in filmmaking, “Blassie” is far more of a statement on a whole host of issues related to living a full and meaningful life spoken in real, natural dialogue AND isn’t pre-determined (despite the actual lives of the performers being very oriented that way). “André” attempts to do the same, but only instead obscures the questions after raising them with overwrought dialogue.
Don’t get me wrong. “My Breakfast with Blassie” is not a great movie, but that’s irrelevant to this analysis and the overall point that I’m trying to make. “Blassie” just makes “André” seem like a freshman film studies project conveying existential and spiritual exploration. “André” tries while “Blassie” is.
“André” was shot on a soundstage over 1-2 weeks where everything could be controlled. “Blassie” was shot in a very open and operating restaurant with little control over anything. Yet, it’s far more successful by just going for it the authentic way. I like the symbolism of that.
I do admit that part of the reason that I see as much as I do in “Blassie” is perhaps my own lifelong fascination with old-school professional wrestling. And it largely started upon hearing Freddie’s “Pencil Neck Geek” song (see above) on the Dr. Demento radio show around the same time that I saw Andy Kaufman and Jerry Lawler stage a very real-looking fight (to my young eyes anyway) on Late Night with David Letterman along with a whole lot of obscenity. Then I saw “Rowdy” Roddy Piper talk on the mic and I was hooked for decades.
There was a time in my early thirties when I was obsessed with reading wrestler biographies and certainly one of the best is Blassie’s book. My favorite part is where he describes putting numbing gel on his penis so he could impress the ladies with his love-making prowess. It’s not that I endorse bragging about sexual conquests, but it does take a fair amount of strength in the face of masculine fragility to admit that even allegedly big, scary bad guys need some help now and then.
It was stories such as that that made me want to go to work for World Wrestling Entertainment as one of their in-house documentarians. I did eventually get a foot in the door. But after speaking with a few folks in the offices, I was referred to a pre-HHH Stephanie McMahon to be considered as a member of the dreaded “Creative Team”. The internet marks know why I phrased it that way. Anyway, I was hired and my life was forever changed in many ways. I’ll eventually get into that here- just not now.
Like both movies discussed earlier, my WWE career was nothing impressive. And if you google my history there, know that most of what you’ll find is largely inaccurate. I was not a good fit for sure but most people I worked with would give me credit for showing up and putting forth interesting ideas that would then be ignored. Some actually proved to be prophetic (#humblebrag), but I’m not here to toot my own horn. Basically, I got along with everyone backstage… except one person.
I was lectured many times about making faces of shock and horror whenever the real-life Mr. McMahon put forth creative ideas. So yes, I was eventually fired. Fun Fact: At the airport waiting on my flight home, I met “The American Dream” Dusty Rhodes as he was flying to Connecticut to join the Creative Team I was now leaving. I’d probably replace me with someone like him, too, if my last name was McMahon.
I have been fired twice in my life. Once by Vince and the other by acclaimed film director and part-time Baby Yoda associate Werner Herzog. So take that as an assessment of my cinematic literacy if you’d like, but it has now come to the part of the post where I get to the point of all this.
So what does this have to do with the movie, let alone cancer?
Remember earlier when I mentioned how both films ultimately are an exploration of existential philosophies and living a full life? I challenge you, dear reader, to adapt and apply whatever lessons you can learn from “My Breakfast with Blassie” into your own life. If you’re not sure where to start, here’s a basic list of starter suggestions:
It doesn’t matter that life is a predetermined con (aka “a work” in kayfabe speak), it’s all about the story along the way to the finish
Sometimes a meal with a friend you respect is all you need to ground yourself
Don’t get lost in false intellectualism
Explore your identity in meaningful ways for yourself, not the critics
Choose authenticity over contrivance
Wash your hands regularly
If you’re gonna wear a fake neck brace, commit to the gag for way too long
Leave a nice tip
Order dessert
Support public transportation
Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke. (™J. R. “Bob” Dobbs)
Like “They Call Me Bruce?”, nothing in the film or life is as it seems. All we know is what we imagine to be true. That doesn’t mean it isn’t false, but there is no such thing as a mindless comedy. Well, maybe there is. Life is ultimately all dirt and random chaos. Just don’t be defined by what anyone else thinks. And always leave ‘em guessing where reality ends and the illusion begins.
I was not a fan of pro wrestling as a kid, but I was a huge Andy Kaufmann fan from like age 19 on.
You definitely have to tell the story of Herzog firing you.
I'm sure you've heard plenty of Vince McMahon stories, and so have I, first hand from former stars. That dude must be one of the most loathed people in history.