The "New Classic" Man

The rube in the big city has long been a Hollywood staple , from Mr. Smith Goes to Town to Mr. Deeds to The Hudsucker Proxy. The protagonist in these films generally becomes a hero as he unearths the decadence, elitism and corruption of the urban denizens that serve as his straw men and shows that honor, honesty and, of course, innocence are central features of the American male. With the birth of the 80s and the new American character, these characters fell into the background, replaced by the savvy, greedy but ultimately redeemed protagonists who broke through the morally corrupt world and found success and happiness in the process. With Cedar Rapids, we return to this well-worn theme, though this time the "big" city is Cedar Falls and the hero is an insurance salesman who has never flown, never stayed in a hotel and who dates his old high school teacher.

Time Lippe (played by Ed Helms of The Office and Hangover fame) is an honest man thrust into the rather dimmed spotlight of an insurance conference, after being forced to replace the company's darling salesman turned deviant, who dies with a belt around his throat and his pants at his ankles. He packs up his suitcase and heads to Cedar Falls where a hooker Bree (Ally Shawkar), a promiscuous wife and mother Joan (Anne Heche), a Black nerdy insurance man named Ronald Wilkes (Isiah Whilock, Jr.) and an obnoxious lout (Dean Ziegler played by John C. Reilly -- who seems to have taken a break from quality acting), all show him the way out of his staid existence. He first wins a riveting Scavenger Hunt with Joan, parties with the gang, sleeps with Joan, parties with Bree, pays for the prestigious two diamond award upon which his company and his job depend and then comes clean and undercuts the selling of his company. Redeemed, though alone, in the end, we are led to believe that he has grown as a result of his foray into the medium-sized, Midwest city and is now a better, more mature man who has succeeded in business and life.

The film works on a few levels, but is less funny than it is soft-spoken in its approach and many of the jokes revolve around our credulity toward the innocence and stupidity of the characters, including nods to the old staples of homophobia (in a shower scene with the pious (though we later learn corrupt) president of the insurer's association) and a good ole salacious drug party scene that culminates in a fight before the star-crossed lovers Tim and Bree decide against consummating their new love as she offers up her bum for his sexual pleasure. The film, like most of what Hollywood does today, is derivative, but that is not necessarily a reason not to see it -- as the bankruptcy of ideas certainly did little to undermine the incredibly entertaining and uproarious Hangover. Instead my real critique of the film, which is still entertaining in its modest goals, is its celebration of innocence and simplicity as goals to which men should aspire. While the art house and alternative films tend to revel in our collective hypocrisy, disillusionment and even, sometimes brilliance, mainstream Hollywood films tend to celebrate the opposite. From Adam Sandler films to frat boy flicks to action movies and the cop/robber caper, stupidity is put forth as a funny, and really admirable, American male trait.

Rocky is a hero not only for beating the Black man (Apollo, in case the message is lost) who was "stealing" jobs from the working class White American male in the 70s, but embodied our love affair with the lovable dolt, the hapless loser, the incurious beast who could become rich through no fault of his own or even, under the right circumstances, President. The days of the mook might be on the decline, but we still have plenty of Homer Simpsons, Tom Greens, Jackasses, Sandlers and Coaches to keep us laughing, and teach our teenagers what cool is all about. This is backed by advertisers who love to celebrate this credulous dupe, often informed now by preteen children who send him on the path toward enlightenment; which itself seems odd given that they have none of the "experience" that we hold so dear. We can think of the daughter in Definitely Maybe, the sister in (500) Days of Summer or the teenager in the recent remake of True Grit. All seem to have wisdom well beyond their years, while the adults that surround them act like the youth of yore, still innocent, easily manipulated, unempathetic, immature and unable to really navigate the world around them without the women and children they rely on to survive. The irony here is that we celebrate the innocence of youth across the consumer culture at the same time we tell those same kids to hurry and grow up before those stupid adults they shouldn't respect destroy the universe. One hopes that at least they learn this valuable lesson and ignore the call toward stupidity and indifference that seem to reign supreme today.