As we near the end of this century (and of the millennium itself),
we inevitably enter a weird post-postmodern realm. Merely examining
art, culture, society is no longer enough. Thanks to our hyper-conscious,
trend-hopping, mile-a-minute rush to the end of the 20th century,
there is no artistic movement, no intellectual thought, no TV
sitcom that has not been reexamined, revived or revamped. From
the art-cum-advertising of Andy Warhol through to the pop culture
cannibalism of Quentin Tarantino, America has become a littered
landscape of self-referential winks and self-conscious appropriations.
As we near the fin de siècle, we must continue the
trend, go to the next level and start examining those who do the
examining. Digging into the president's sex life is old hat. Questioning
Kenneth Starr's motivations just isn't enough. We're at the point
at which nothing less than a Newsweek cover scrutinizing
Dan Rather's coverage of Kenneth Starr's investigation into what
Monica Lewinsky said she did with President Clinton will suffice.
First-time filmmaker Dan Zukovic seems to have reached a similar
conclusion. His hilarious and original new film The Last Big
Thing follows this trend to its logical (if insane) conclusion.
Zukovic not only writes and directs the film but stars in it as
Simon Geist. Geist is an enigmatic L.A.-based intellectual who
has supposedly started a hip new culture magazine called The
Next Big Thing. In actuality, though, The Next Big Thing
doesn't exist. It's nothing more than an attractive lie. Nonetheless,
Simon seeks out people in various media and tries to set up interviews
with them. It's all an elaborate excuse for our post-postmodern
protagonist to confront and question the creators of culture ...
or just insult them if the mood strikes.
Simon's unusual "project" attracts the attentions of
Darla (Susan Heimbinder), a self-
effacing trust fund baby who meets the highbrow heckler "after
a period of deep depression that lasted from the ages of four
to 23." Darla and Simon hook up, acquire "the perfect
camouflage" (a house in suburbia bought with money from Darla's
rich father) and set about to expose "the most fucked-up
city of the last thousand years" as the pointless, fame-obsessed
fraud that it is.
Zukovic, looking like a hulking version of David Byrne, sulks
his way through the role of Simon with perfect self-
importance. "Zeitgeist" directly translated from the
German means "spirit of the time." This character, this
intellectual puzzle, this pop culture mega-critic known as Simon
Geist is, literally, a spirit of his time. He is both an embodiment
of the age and a pale shadow walking through its days. At first,
it seems as if Simon is on to something. Certainly, rock bands
with pretentious names and stand-up comics with a million weary
references to '70s sitcoms are ripe targets for satire. Simon's
(and Zukovic's) skewering of cheesy soap actors and clueless artists
is both scabrous and funny. Eventually, though, Simon's project
begins to run out of steam. He chooses a picture perfect cover
model named Tendra for his final "interview." Unfortunately,
Tendra turns out to be quite the intellectual herself, matching
Simon's cultural musings tit-for-tat and upending his entire world
view.
As a director, Zukovic seems to have a natural way with actors,
wheedling believable performances from every member of his novice
cast. Susan Heimbinder is quite appropriate as the starry-eyed
idol worshipper who slowly finds her own intellectual voice by
chronicling the rise and fall of Simon Geist's cultural excoriation.
Darla's obvious love for Simon is nicely demonstrated by her growing
jealousy of Tendra. At the same time, her own intellectual agenda
becomes more apparent with her burgeoning self-awareness and her
waning confidence in Simon.
Everyone on the planet, it seems, is looking for "the next
big thing"--the next fad, the next fashion, the next Trial
of the Century. What everyone's searching for, I suppose, is a
convenient capper to the 20th century--an easy tombstone to mark
the end of one era and the beginning of another. "Who will
be the last figure of this millennium?" is a question that
Zukovic's film vocalizes frequently. I don't think we're going
to find one. Life is rarely accommodating enough to work around
our rigid calendars. With The Last Big Thing Zukovic may
not have found a window to our future world, but he has created
a witty, warped and highly astringent addition to the current
trainwreck known as American culture.