In recent years, so many American films have centered on characters who for a range of reasons are dissatisfied with their lives. They question the world around them. They view themselves as losers, as failures and, at their core, they also are self-involved.
Such is the plight of the title character in BRAD’S STATUS, which recently made its way to home entertainment. Ben Stiller stars as Brad Sloan, who is 47-years-old and is drowning in discontent. In his mind, all his old college buddies are smashingly successful. Collectively, they are super-wealthy. They are routinely seated at the best tables in the fanciest restaurants. They fly around in their own jets-- unlike Brad, who only can afford economy-class.
At this juncture, Brad is questioning his life and his luck. But should he really be doing this? For after all, Brad Sloan is married to a wonderful woman, who is devoted and supportive. He has a son who is every loving parents’ definition of a perfect child. And as for his old college pals, how does he know that they really are genuinely happy, and not living problem-free lives?
At its core, there is nothing really original about BRAD’S STATUS; it primarily is of interest to Ben Stiller aficionados. But still, its point of view is well-worth pondering. That comes in the form of a question: Is it senseless and even a bit egotistical to drown yourself in defeatism and envy anyone you think is happier and more successful than you are?
Just around the time that BRAD’S STATUS arrived on DVD, I happened to come upon a 65-year-old film that grabbed my attention. Its title is THE GLASS WALL, it dates from 1953, and it is the story of a young Hungarian who has spent ten of his 25 years in concentration camps. He is the last-remaining living family member, and he is a displaced person who has stowed away on a ship heading for America. In a sequence that, sadly, echoes the worst of contemporary America, a gruff, by-the-book immigration bureaucrat ignores his plight and coldly refuses him entry. So he jumps ship in New York harbor and desperately wanders the streets of Manhattan.
At one point, he meets an unfortunate young woman who lives in a sleazy rooming house. They end up there, and she tells him: “Look at me. Look at the way I live. This crummy room...” His response is: “Crummy. Why crummy? It’s a very good room. And all by yourself.” He also continues: “How many nights have I slept on the ground, all crowded in with 30, 40 people? If I had a room like this for myself, I would feel rich!”
Cinematically-speaking, THE GLASS WALL is deeply flawed. But still, I found this film and this sequence to be very revealing. It is a sobering reminder that we all are products of our backgrounds, our histories, and it would do well for Brad Sloan and all those like him to see-- and ponder-- a film like THE GLASS WALL.
Rob Edelman has authored or edited several dozen books on film, television, and baseball. He has taught film history courses at several universities and his writing has appeared in many newspapers, magazines, and journals. His frequent collaborator is his wife, fellow WAMC film commentator Audrey Kupferberg.
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