A Skeleton From the Closet

CLEANING OUT CLOSETS can be terribly confusing as piles of long-forgotten objects tumble out once we start to open the door. Behind the spiderwebs lie the dust-covered paraphernalia representing our past. In the mess, we find our first A in grade school, the cast from our first broken wrist, cracked pictures of former lovers; in Brian DePalma's case, he apparently re-discovered the reels from his 1969 movie The Wedding Party. Sometimes closets are best left unopened.

A bit of nostalgia must have promoted the film industry to dust off this relic--though a cynic might posit that this early film by now-recognizable stars might be a safe box-office bet. Although the movie reveals the then-burgeoning talents of co-director DePalma (Carrie, Dressed to Kill, Blow Out), actress Jill Clayburgh (An Unmarried Woman), and Robert DeNiro (The Godfather, The Deer Hunter, Raging Bull), the film doesn't warrant renewed interest as if it were a resurrected unified piece of art. The public forgot it easily enough in 1969, and--not so strangely--it's as unremarkable now.

But before slamming the closet door for good, a few comments are in order about this 90-minute satire of marriage and its pomp and circumstance. Filmed entirely in black and white. The Wedding Party depicts the ludicrous preparations for the marriage of newlyweds Charlie (Charles Pfluger) to Josephine (Clayburgh). Starting from the arrival of the groom's party on Josephine's modest family Island, the plot traces all the various preparations for this highly intricate ceremony Charlie and his two consorts (De Niro) and Alistair (William Finley) arrive in a flurry of activity, meeting the extended family of sisters, cousins, and aunts. The film shows their awkwardness in facing hags wearing horn-rimmed glasses engaged in absurd preparations for the Big Day.

The crisis Charlie undergoes during the two days preceding his marriage consumes most of the shallow plot, with all the silly details involved in the wedding's preparations forming a backdrop. Although the plot is filled with strings of funny episodes, no single theme unites the movie. Instead, The Wedding Party is a series of quickly paced, unrelated vignettes.

All the characters except for Charlie are one-dimensional stereotypic caricatures. Clayburgh plays a dippy finance. Although her portrayal of Josephine is appropriately vacuous, she fails to seize a firm grasp on her character. Nothing seen on the screen can explain Charlie's attraction to her. A little awkward on film, Clayburgh's acting techniques seem rough and not as refined as in her later performances.

DE NIRO PLAYS a squat Harvard graduate named Cecil. He lumbers about on the screen without true motivations. He misses a comic timing in his actions consequently making his performance staff and unresponsive. His performance--as well as Clayburgh's--makes one appreciate the more recent acting performances, but does little for The Wedding Party.

As Charlie, Pfluger portrays a confused young man torn between his affections for Josephine and his repulsions from her stagnant family. Handsome, yet awkward, Pfluger seems unsure whether or not to take his character seriously. Although he portrays the most interesting character in the movie. Pfluger never seems truly alive or completely aware of his surroundings.

Superficiality pervades the entire movie--especially because the array of relatives constitute a full spectrum of lifeless duds. Set in the early '60s, these characters are static period pieces; they seem lost in dated material, as if their horn-rimmed glasses had fogged their view of reality.

BUTEVEN with fine acting, the film would still be distorted by unusual filming techniques. Filmed at various speeds, the movie blasts too far forward in a flurry of quickly edited footage of Charlie's arrival on the island. Various scenes are introduced--as if in a silent film--with a paragraph describing the proper procedure for that part of the wedding. These "clever" filming devices deter from the movie's overall effect, confusing the central action.

Initially, The Wedding Party seems like a familiar '20s moving picture parody. Then the footage slows down, and the movie--for all intents and purposes--grinds to a halt. DePalma seems to have experimented with various camera angles and various splicing techniques, as if this film was practice. Although this filming is unusual experimentation with form, it fails in its inability to lift and carry the action.

We are unable to retain full impressions about the characters and the story. The devices rob the scenes of any potential success, because they lack focus. The movie leaves one feeling force-led. But The Wedding Party is difficult to digest. It would have been better to leave this film alone--instead of bringing these acting skeletons out of the closet.