The Shape of Things

Neil LaBute's The Shape of Things (2003), an adaptation of his own play, is a wonderfully savage satire of a kind rarely seen in film. At first glance a gender-reversed telling of Pygmalion, its satire is even more scathing - and more disturbing - than Shaw's classic tome, tackling issues of truth, the value of appearance, the morality of art (or lack thereof) - and the question of personal identity itself.

Nerdy post-grad student Adam (Paul Rudd) has a chance encounter at a museum with Evelyn (Rachel Weisz), a feisty art student who plans to vandalize a censored nude statue. The two start seeing each other, and Adam's friends begin noticing a change in him - first a haircut, then a new wardrobe, then significant weight loss. He attracts the attention of Jenny (Gretchen Mol), who used to have a thing for him but is now engaged to Adam's former room mate Phil (Fred Weller), leading to romantic tension between the four friends. Adam's personality transforms as well, turning him from a likeable guy into a jerk - and eventually he learns a shocking truth about Evelyn's motives that rocks him to the core.

LaBute's play is a fascinating, nasty piece of work. He certainly has an ear for banal, everyday dialogue of intelligent people; it seems both bland and biting at the same time, every other sentence a double entendre. The question of what is or isn't art is one that remains pertinent to this day; in an age where starving dogs, piles of elephant crap and crucifixes soaked in urine are acclaimed as art works, where does one draw the line between art and cruelty? Adam's improvement is wholly ornamental; by the end of the story he has become rude, self-centered, vulgar and a different person entirely - and with his relationships broken through her actions, his life is a shambles. Evelyn may be punished, but it's nigh-impossible that Adam will ever regain what he's lost at her hands. Evelyn has a point about the aesthetic shallowness of society, and its views of beauty and desirability (represented by the improbably naive Jenny), but what good could come of her work for anyone besides herself? Is the intellectual masturbation worth the human cost?

What really sells the film, though, are the characters. Evelyn is a truly hateful, despicable bad guy - essentially, a female version of Aaron Eckhardt's equally disgusting Chad from In the Company of Men. At first she seems mildy unhinged and neurotic, but quickly - her confrontational personality, and most nastily of all, her gift for manipulation. The scene where she presents her "project" is absolutely gut-wrenching and chilling. Jenny is the one truly pleasant character of the film, used as a foil for Adam's transformation; Phil is a jerk right off the bat, but at least he makes no bones about it, unlike Evelyn. Adam, of course, is the story's protagonist, and in many ways the most disturbing character. He goes from a dorky but likeable guy to a complete ass as he transforms, losing his friends, altering his appearance and becoming increasingly shallow and mean - and only after everything collapses around him does he appreciate what's happening to him.

The real unsettling part of the film is not what Evelyn does, but how easy Adam changes - and the implications that it could easily happen to any of us. Certainly a great many people of both genders have changed themselves - be it weight loss or a haircut or dumping annoying habits - at the whims of their romantic partners, perhaps not as radically as Evelyn manipulates Adam, but surely enough. As Jenny says, few people are perfectly satisfied with their partners, and the success of a relationship often depends on a person's willingness to change or subdue their individual quirks and foibles for their prospective mate. This fact makes LaBute's work hit home - the idea that, however extreme the film's presentation, it could easily happen to pretty much anyone.

The only real problem with the story is that, as attractive as one may find Rachel Weisz, Evelyn is so obviously a neurotic at best that any sane person would be leery of falling into a relationship with her, at least not without a good amount of vetting. Certainly Adam should have had red flags going up with such a hot girl hitting on a dork like him, but then sheer physical attraction overcomes a lot. I would also argue that Evelyn's project would be unlikely to receive approval from the get-go, given the huge liability she would expose herself and the school to. These are quibbles, though, and in the context of the play they don't amount to a whole lot. After all, LaBute is making a point, and lapses in credibility can be mostly overlooked for dramatic purposes.

The cast is absolutely perfect. Paul Rudd has become a big name recently (Role Models, I Love You Man), and this early part shows a great deal of talent, mixing Adam's neuroses, nerdy awkwardness and his shifting personality. Rachel Weisz seems a bit too old for her character but she carries off the role of Evelyn flawlessly, imbuing her with barely-hidden misanthropy and callous psychosis that manifests itself as obsession with art, and she certainly has the requisite sex appeal needed for the part. Fred Weller gets the weakest role - Phil is never really more than a jerky jock - but acquits himself well. Gretchen Mol is lovely and heartbreaking as Jenny, the only character who remains likeable throughout the film.

The Shape of Things is a wonderful film that's more than a bit scary in its implications. How easily could any of us be persuaded to change our personalities? LaBute's answer is: not very.