Hanks's rosy world in 'That Thing You Do'

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): Every once in a while, Hollywood comes up with two kinds of movies. The first reminds you why you go to the movies in the first place. The premise is simple but ironically hard to achieve: You want to sit back and relax. You want to indulge and be pampered. You want to feel good in a wholesome, rather than a special effects, way.

The second is a movie that reminds Americans just why it is so good to be American. In fact, as the phenomenal success of Forrest Gump attests, this identity-boosting exercise isn't merely a cute cinematic idea, but a sporadic necessity in this highly cynical era.

With the entertainment industry held primarily at fault for polluting public morality, Hollywood finds itself having to occasionally placate the love-starved masses with inoffensive, harmless, fun stuff that is guaranteed to make them walk out of the cinema with a smile.

Although the two premises are not necessarily interlinked, the act of combining them gives us, quite simply, the Great American Dream. Nothing works quite like it, and no one knows and does it better than Tom Hanks, Hollywood's Mr. Nice Guy.

In That Thing You Do!, his screenwriting and directing debut, Hanks tells the story of The Wonders, a rock n' roll teen quartet of small town boys from Erie, Pennsylvania. In the free-flowing early '60s, the group soars into the national spotlight when their song That Thing You Do becomes a big hit.

The Wonders, naturally, is a merry band of distinct personalities. As any record industry manager worth his salt will tell you, such bands almost always include "the smart one" (drummer Guy Patterson, Hanks' alter ego, played by a disarmingly charming Tom Scott Everett); "the talented one" (frontman Jimmy Mattingly II, played by a perpetually moody Johnathon Schaech); and "the stupid one" (guitarist Lenny Haise played by a wonderfully zany Steve Zahn).

Voice of conscience

A nameless bass player (forgettable Ethan Embry) is the necessary fourth band member included to render the Beatles parallel possible. Jimmy's girlfriend Faye Dolan (All-American Sweetheart Liv Tyler), is "the special one" who travels with the band and is its voice of conscience.

In early 60s America, suburbia's cup was indeed filled to the brim with teenaged wannabees who sat in their garages and dreamed of rock n' roll fame. Hanks' prickly attention to details managed to capture the mood and energy of this period, especially the naive and unassuming ways of small town youth.

To these teenagers, life feels like an endless, playful romp. For a handful of lucky ones, fulfilled dreams are part and parcel of growing up in the Land of Opportunity. No real life crisis, except slightly overbearing parents and being stuck in an unimaginative job, is expected. Even relationships - between Faye and Jimmy and between Guy and Tina (Monroe lookalike Charlize Theron) - take on a light and buoyant quality. Everything is violets and roses, froth and bubbles, encapsulating the spirit of what Hanks himself describes as "the last innocent year".

Witness the delightful scene when the gang hears their song on the radio for the first time. It captures the jubilance of overnight success so beautifully. Or the defining moment at the local talent show when Guy starts their song too fast. Or the weekend gig at the local pizza parlor. Or the Moose-and-Jughead type dialogues shared by the band members. It is in these small, privileged moments where the movie's magic lies.

Even the title song, which gets played 11 times in various forms throughout the movie, is exactly the kind of song that you would expect of this era - cheerful, optimistic, infectious, "snappy". It's one of those tunes that can single-handedly carry an entire movie, and rightfully so.

The movie is, of course, almost too nice. Tom Hanks, who plays Mr. White, the band's experienced manager, starts out in a rather Machiavellian manner, only to revert to a wise paternal figure in the last reel. Wisdom is the exclusive preserve of black characters - the reluctant jazz legend Del Paxton, the real talent of the industry who Guy worships; and Lamarr, the kindly bellman of the famous Ambassador Hotel who looks after Faye when nobody else does.

But in this charmed world, even the bar prostitute, played by Hanks' wife Rita Wilson, is a mother at heart.

When the band breaks up, all is quickly forgotten, the right guy gets the girl, and everything ends on a happy note.

That Hanks' own life story embodies this Dream goes a long way in explaining why he does so many things right in this movie. Indeed, Hanks' Hollywood saga is unique, a subtly managed trek around career ups-and-downs that ultimately culminated in his winning Tinseltown's "most likable personality" label. Yet all this transpired largely outside the interfering eye of publicity, gossip and personality hype.

Superficially, That Thing You Do! seems to want to tell a story that is supposed to be of no consequence to anyone, a harmless invitation to wallow in the sweet nostalgia of America's cultural heyday.

Appelation

But this virtually effortless, laissez-faire simplicity belies a cunning tact on the part of Mr. "Everyman" Hanks, a trait which undoubtedly won him his rare appellation. First, he shows through his alter ego, Guy Patterson, that real talent doesn't count as much as faith, flexibility and perseverance in surviving in ruthless showbiz.

Second, his casting is not some haphazard selection of "relative unknowns". It is a calculated, strategic move that allows him to carve a niche for himself within the "New Hollywood", as well as keeping his place within the Establishment.

Since appearing in Bernardo Bertolucci's Stealing Beauty, the doe-eyed Liv Tyler has become an icon of the New American Female. Johnathon Schaech, with his brooding, slightly androgynous good looks, has helped redefine the concept of male beauty. Tom Everett Scott, a newcomer who practically carries the entire movie, proves that "natural acting" is the new name of the game.

So sit back and enjoy. But also be reminded that no person of Hanks' stature could possibly release a pet project, however chirpy, bouncy or cute, without peppering it with some semblance of moral lessons. It's only thanks to his firm knowledge of the industry that he doesn't come across as a pontificating wiseguy.