Awesome Movie Review: Thank You For Smoking

Voice-over narration. I’m not a fan, especially when the narration is first-person. First-person narration in film has two fundamental flaws. First, it’s a holdover from the realm of literature. Novels have first-person narrators, so why can’t films? Well, I’ll tell you why: because films are, by there very nature, third-person in nature. There might be the occasional exception, but nothing noteworthy or worthwhile. Just as it is very difficult for a novelist to actively and successfully mix first- and third-person narration, using a first-person narration in a third-person film is quite the sticky wicket. The second flaw of first-person narration is that it is far too often a narrative crutch. There is the old Creative Writing 101 adage of “show, don’t tell” that applies equally, if not more so, to film. While there are many, many idiots in this world, I am not one of them. I don’t need a disembodied voice to tell me what I can plainly see on the screen in front of me. Because of the obvious difficulties of smoothly working a first-person narration into a film, many otherwise decent movies are ruined by the unneeded presence of patronizing narration. Thank You For Smoking is not such a film. Thank You For Smoking has problems far beyond shitty narration.

Thank You For Smoking is a film about Big Tobacco lobbyist Nick Naylor, played by Aaron Eckhart. It is made to be seen that Naylor is quite good at his job. In the opening scene, Naylor simultaneously reaches out to a cancer-stricken teenager and vilify an anti-smoking crusader. And shortly after that, there is a voice-over narration telling how good Naylor is at his job, as if I couldn’t figure that out from watching the opening scene.

The narration tries to be witty and smarmy, but screenwriter/director/Kindergarten Cop star Jason Ivanovich Reitman is clearly trying too hard to be clever. In one line of the narration, Naylor claims: “You know the guy who can pick up any girl? I’m him. On crack.” Thank You For Smoking has nothing to do with picking up chicks. In fact, later in the film it becomes clear that Naylor is easily manipulated by women. And I would think that being on crack would severely limit any man’s ability to pick up chicks, excepting for crack whores. But who’s impressed by a man’s ability to pick up crack whores? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

The previously quoted line is a grand example of how Reitman cares more about wink-wink-nudge-nudge snark than crafting believable characters. It’s like he’s not even trying. Reitman must be aware that his audience will know the dangers of smoking and believe that all tobacco company people are a bunch of lying douchebags, because he pins the entire movie on that assumption. So when Naylor says, “That’s the beauty of argument, if you argue correctly, you’re never wrong,” Reitman expects his audience to chuckle knowingly, because they all know that Naylor is a liar promoting cancerous death sticks and that no matter what he argues, he is clearly wrong. I, on the other hand, did not chuckle, because what Naylor describes isn’t arguing “correctly.” Arguing correctly is proving your point, and actually winning the argument, not cowardly changing the subject or shifting the blame via childish namecalling.

For the movie to be believable, Naylor must be seen as a peerless orator. However, none of his arguments have any merit. I suppose that’s part of the joke of the movie–that tobacco propaganda is all a bunch of hogwash–but it’s not just the content of his arguments that are merit less, it’s the form as well. Nothing that Naylor says in the film couldn’t be rebutted by pointing out the irrelevance or ad hominem nature of all Naylor’s arguments. The characters Naylor encounters all act like they are shocked by his speaking prowess, when they should be relishing the fact that it should be so easy to turn Naylor’s fallacious arguments against him and put him on the defensive. Trust me, if Demosthenes were alive today and he were to watch Thank You For Smoking, he’d puke. Well, actually, he’s probably be all like, “Holy shit! How did they get Katie Holmes into that little box?” But once someone explained all the technological advances over the last 2300 years that have led to consumers having the ability to watch Katie Holmes on their living room jumping box, he’d still puke, disgusted by the poor quality of rhetoric masquerading as public speaking bravado in Thank You For Not Smoking. Demosthenes knows there is nothing even remotely funny or entertaining about shoddy debate tactics.

You know what else isn’t funny? A narrative that hinges entirely upon a tragic flaw that completely contradicts the essential nature of the character. The most bothersome aspect of Thank You For Smoking was the sudden downfall and restoration of Naylor’s career. You see, J.I. Reitman, being a truly gifted screenwriter and certainly not a recipient of undeserved nepotism, knows that any mediocre screenplay must have a conflict and a resolution to that conflict. The conflict is a tell-all article written by Katie Holmes, which she wrote using information gained while Naylor was humping her. Apparently, Naylor can convince anyone of anything, twist any argument to support his views and survive a massive nicotine overdose (thanks to a completely unnecessary kidnapping subplot that apparently played a much larger role in the novel), but when faced with the inviting majesty of Katie Holmes’ vagina, he turns into Frankie the Squealer. I find it hard to believe that a man so successful at deception could be seduced so easily and completely by a sexy lady who doesn’t really smile. She just kinda smirks. I don’t see the appeal in that at all, but I have very particular taste when is comes to sexy ladies.

For 90% of the film, Naylor is presented as God. And I mean God God, not Morrissey God. Shit. Damn Love Hewitt Wordfilter. Anyway, Naylor is nothing short of all-powerful. Everything goes his way, everyone is under his sway. Then, out of nowhere, he porks Katie Holmes and everything falls apart. Then, just as quickly, he makes fun of cheese in front of a congressional committee, calls Katie Holmes a skank and everything is back to normal. Basically, in the course of Thank You For Smoking, nothing happens. It’s just the same lame joke about how tobacco people are a bunch of liars and how anti-smoking people are self-serving and manipulative. This might have been incisive commentary twenty years ago, but this is the 21st Century. I have been raised to be cynical and distrusting of any authority figure or expert. Thank You For Smoking says nothing to me at all.

If it weren’t for the acting, Thank You For Smoking would receive the dreaded Evil Head of Sergei Eisenstein. But it just so happens that every actor in the film does a damn fine job. Between the acting and the Shakespearean in magnitude foley work of Geordy Sincavage (I fully intend to sample more of the work of the magnificent Mr. Sincavage), Thank You For Smoking merits a rating of one tiny head of Sergei Eisenstein.