I Think We're Alone Now

It's always been my contention that if you leave a movie feeling uncomfortable or even upset, then it was a worthwhile experience, certainly better than slogging through the mire of the predictable and mundane. But I Think We're Alone Now is so dismal, so painful to watch that it left me drained and surly afterwards. It's the story of two frighteningly dysfunctional people. Jeff has Asperger's Syndrome and Kelly is a hermaphrodite. They are both obsessed with '80s pop icon Tiffany and spend an alarming amount of time and energy fixated on her. Jeff is bright, unrelentingly positive and can hold court on a number of subjects. Unfortunately, because he's a bit long-winded, it became hard for him to hold down a job and this was his downfall, according to a friend, because his complex, wonderful mind shifted solely to his obsession. Kelly is in considerably worse shape. Struggling with obvious gender issues, his immense pain stems from his admission that he's never been loved. He feels he has a right to have Tiffany love him. Of the many cringe-inducing scenes, the most painful is after Jeff and Kelly's encounter with a shockingly charitable Tiffany. Kelly's fragile dream was to have her return to his hometown where they would start a new life together. As he later comes to grips with his failure, and boasts of Tiffany giving him a platonic kiss on the cheek, Jeff interjects his delusional anecdote involving the woman he considers "his best friend." This is an outrage to Kelly, whose flimsy fantasy quickly crumbles as Jeff's similar pathology intrudes. It feels like the movie isn't really about anything; it's not about celebrity worship, although it does leave me wondering why so many people choose Tiffany to obsess over (there are others in the film's periphery) and also, why Tiffany, despite having a restraining order against Jeff, continues to greet him when he waits for her at public appearances. Some people admire the austere, unflinching reality of this film, but that can be found in less exploitive doses in the outstanding Davidlynch.com Interview Project. What Alone offers is a voyeuristic examination of incredibly sick people that's more like watching The Surreal Life or Celebrity Rehab. I'm not convinced this story was told to shed light on the subjects' true suffering, but rather to further the ambitions of the filmmakers. And that's the greatest discomfort of all.