My Dinner with Andre (1981)

Two old friends meet for dinner; as one tells anecdotes detailing his experiences, the other notices their differing worldviews.This is very much an indie film -- lots of dialogue (and I do mean lots), overly intellectual discourse, and very limited settings (more or less a single table). I am almost surprised this came out in 1981, because it is very much along the lines of the sort of dialogue-heavy indie film we saw in the 1990s.Most interestingly is Wallace Shawn. Maybe it is simply my age, but I was not aware of his existence before "The Princess Bride". And yet, here is he, a full-fledged writer and star of a film. An indie film, but a film just the same... and one honored by the Criterion Collection.

My Dinner with Andre is one of those films you may well hear about, because it is really pretty different. This is the kind of film where you have to have (or have had) a lot of existential curiosity to be able to enjoy it. The less you think you know about this world, the more interesting you will find Andre's tales to be. Beyond that, you may still find it interesting if you can relate to the quest for meaning and happiness and you think of yourself as a student of human interactions. On the other hand, if you have low tolerance for weirdness and fancy, then you are likely to find yourself to be irritated by it all. There is a question of how high to rate it as a film since it seems to be just a recorded conversation. I rate it down just a bit on that account (seems unfair to other films), though I find there are some subtleties to be picked up on, and I found Wallace Shawn to give a pretty good performance with his sincere and mildly intense reactions to Andre (and at one point finds something to be INCONCEIVABLE!). Recommended to artist- and entrepreneurial types that find themselves often wondering over the edge of the World of Appearances.

Wally Shawn (Wallace Shawn) is a 36 year old struggling playwright in NYC. He's also a struggling actor and his girlfriend is a waitress to pay the bills. He reluctantly goes to have dinner with Andre Gregory (Andre Gregory) who is a former friend and colleague. Andre had disappeared over the years traveling the world.It's a lot of long winding monologues. I struggled to get invested in the conversation. This is a daring theatrical exercise but I don't feel connected to Andre's stories. It does have a hypnotic tone which can be fascinating but I also found it pompous. NYC is not Auschwitz. It's a mostly one-way conversation and Andre won't shut up. The twist isn't that surprising. Andre turns from a pompous blow-hard to a crazy pompous blow-hard. Wally is disappointing in his manic failing defense of science. At least, the ending has some back and forth.

I watch the movie every couple of years, so that has to earn it a 10. And for many years I actually found the dialog meaningful, although that feeling has passed over time. I'm surprised there isn't more in the reviews that the whole movie shouldn't be taken at face value, that it's mostly satire, poking fun at the pretensions of the New York literati. That's not to say the characters don't say things that are poignant and thought-provoking. But for me, Gregory's over-the-top reactions and Shawn's bumbling questions and exasperating replies indicate that we're merely being teased and the whole thing is a bit of fun.In one sense, the conversation is almost besides the point. It's the surroundings, especially the reactions of the crusty waiter to the two of them, that reveal the true message. At the end, when it comes time to pay the bill, Shawn takes out his wallet and quickly puts it away when Gregory says he will take care of the bill. The waiter shoots Shawn a look of (as I see it) contempt.With that one expression, the waiter reveals the whole point of the movie. Gregory can do what he wants, have his grandiose ideas and act on them, because he is rich. And Shawn has to speak about the pleasures of the small in everyday life, his love of his electric blanket, because he is economically chained.