Diractors is an ongoing series in which Hassle writer Jack Draper examines films, new and old, whose directors are better known for their work in front of the camera.
In what begins as Albert Brooks’ riff on a couple of yuppies taking Easy Rider far too seriously, Lost in America becomes a movie eating itself. We know that things will go terribly wrong but can’t expect, even on rewatch, just how fast they fall apart. Lost in America brings joy in shedding capitalism from one’s life as a chance for new memories or happiness, maybe for the first major time since Easy Rider. Brooks initially didn’t want to play the lead again after Bill Murray couldn’t make it work, but it turns out nobody can play an Albert Brooks stand-in quite like himself. There’s a clear reason why Brooks’ sensibility is so influential for the generations after him, especially because of the neuroses he carries with him. The movie is not just a great comedy, but a great movie that’s part of a timeless filmography. There’s still a sense that you can have it all in the corporate world, even without the nest egg.
Lost in America tells the story of Linda and David, a couple on the road to nowhere in the corporate world. David especially, now that he has lost out on an anticipated promotion in his advertising company and crashed out once a suit is given the position he worked so hard for. Being tossed aside gives David the reason to sway Linda to “touch the Indians, finally!” as David sees it, renting an RV with a small amount of savings to make their new life work on the road. After a stop in Vegas (my favorite portion of the movie), Linda gambles away most of the money they went on the road thanks to her (previously unbeknownst to her) gambling addiction. As the savings are blown, the job searches are back on as they both now need jobs they are way overqualified for in a trailer park they don’t know anyone and nobody takes them seriously. Just as Real Life sneakily back-doors the concept of reality TV, Lost in America reads into the allure of rebellion that we may see now with van life influencers online. For something as clearly crazy from the outside as throwing away your job, David and Linda treat this like a permanent vacation.
As for Brooks as a director, he is sneakily one of the best. I’d still put up Redford and Beatty (with Ordinary People and Reds) as what should be reached for by any diractor, yet Albert Brooks is not far behind. As a comedian who then made short films for Saturday Night Live before his masterful debut in Real Life (not to mention his beloved comedy albums Comedy Minus One and A Star Is Bought), Brooks built up an audience loyal to him throughout his time as a feature film director. As a Boomer California kid, his persona was another voice for his generation that was beginning to emerge. Observational comedy is hilarious when spoken by him but combined with questioning things about life and relationships we are typically meant to believe. For my generation of Zillennials, Brooks is largely defined by voicing Marlin in Finding Nemo and as an iconic match for actor and character. Yet his filmography has aged wonderfully, going further, ahead of their time. Lost in America is everything he does best and everyone sees that there’s not a false note in the movie. Maybe on the next impulse decision, we can cite this movie to everyone, like David and Linda do Easy Rider.
Lost in America
1985
dir. Albert Brooks
96 min.
