Imagine if you created something artistic ages ago that you’ve completely forgotten about, and out of the blue, someone finds it and starts calling you a creative genius. I’d probably be baffled and a bit skeptical at first, but I’d also feel pretty flattered by all the attention. That’s the case for a New York poet with a pretty epic name, Ed Saxberger, portrayed brilliantly by the venerable Willem Dafoe.
Late Fame is a slice-of-life film inspired by a novella of the same name from the renowned 19th-century Austrian writer Arthur Schnitzler. In this adaptation, screenwriter Samy Burch shifts the setting from Vienna to modern-day New York City. Director Kent Jones immerses viewers in Ed’s everyday routine, which he seems to embrace. In the 1970s, Ed published a poetry collection, Way Past Go, that went practically undiscovered. He now leads a simple life as a postal worker, living alone in a modest apartment in SoHo. He gets along well with his neighbors and has a circle of working-class buddies he plays pool with and hangs out at a local bar.
Initially, the arrival of a sharply dressed stranger feels like a nuisance, but Meyers (Edmund Donovan) reveals he’s a big fan of his poetry and appears starstruck by him. Before long, Meyers introduces Ed to his quirky group of aspiring young artists known as The Enthusiasm Society, who are all in awe of meeting someone they see as a living legend from the golden age of NY poetry. The idea that “what’s old is new again” resonates even more today, as Millennials and Gen-Zers crave depth, genuine emotion, and real experiences in a fast-paced digital landscape. Vintage poetry offers these young individuals a distinct identity and a way to rebel against mass consumerism. Meyers and his friends outwardly shun technology and social media, blatantly sneering at a group of influencers who share the same bar space.
The group claims to be all about ‘pure art,’ but it’s obvious from the get-go that it’s all just for show; they’re really only concerned about how they’re perceived. Meyers and his buddies are frantically organizing a public recital, and having someone like Ed on board would really elevate their status. This just highlights the shallow nature of their ‘art appreciation’ mission, as it’s more focused on their image than on Ed’s poetry itself. The hypocrisy is further revealed in the third act when one of the group members confesses he hasn’t even read Ed’s book, yet he trusts Ed enough to critique his work.
There’s a lot to digest in Late Fame within just over 90 minutes. The central theme revolves around authenticity versus illusion, along with an astute observation on generational and socioeconomic divides. Soon enough, we discover that these young men in the group are privileged, wealthy kids living off their parents’ wealth. Their privilege lets them treat art as a mere pastime, as they don’t need to worry about the tough realities of earning a living. Meyers’ fancy apartment in a posh neighborhood is a stark contrast to Ed’s modest flat. The NYU grad is pretentious with a capital P, yet he somehow convinces Ed that his admiration is sincere.
Meanwhile, Ed is beguiled by the only woman of the group, the magnetic and mysterious Gloria (Greta Lee), described as the ‘tragic heroine.’ Unlike her peers, the slightly older Gloria didn’t grow up wealthy and actually has to earn a living. She works as an actress and cabaret singer, projecting a diva-like image in public. However, we witness her facade crumble when Ed shows up unexpectedly at her apartment one night and sees Gloria without her glamorous mask.
It’s great to see Lee in another substantial role since Past Lives, which highlights her incredible dramatic talent. This is a flashy role, and Lee handles it with aplomb; Gloria is alluring and seductive, yet also vulnerable. Plus, we get to hear her sing Surabaya Johnny, a heart-wrenching song from the 1920 Berliner Kabaret. Surabaya is also the city where my late father was born, making the song even more fascinating for this Indonesian-born reviewer.
The consistently excellent Dafoe is exquisite here, delivering a nuanced and grounded performance. He really embodies the essence of a working-class guy who’s settled into a tedious routine of a simple life. Ed is a character we can’t help but root for, even as he gets caught up with the young, bohemian crowd the more time he spends with them. The scene with his old friends after he gives his buddy Arnold (Clark Johnson) his poetry book is tough to watch as Ed starts acting like a snob, believing his own hype. Burch’s sharp script shines a light on the fragile human ego and how easily a down-to-earth guy can be enticed by sudden fame. Perhaps that desire for glory is something that lies just beneath the surface in all of us.
Kudos to Jones and Burch for crafting this sophisticated and well-written indie that I hope will garner a lot of recognition during award season. The same goes for Dafoe and Lee, who are both brilliant in this indie drama. Their chemistry is a delight to watch, making their shared scenes some of the film’s most unforgettable moments.
The contemporary Manhattan backdrop is gorgeous, and DP Wyatt Garfield uses lighting to create a contrast between the bright, chilly winter day and the warm, dimly lit vibe of the East Village bar, which feels almost dreamlike. The theme of being authentic to oneself will resonate with anyone navigating the social media landscape, where someone can skyrocket to fame in just moments if something goes viral. Late Fame is a lyrical tale that reminds us of the tempting and fleeting nature of personal glory.
