Mimicking life, Willem Dafoe becomes a hit among the hip kids in the tender Late Fame
Playing a forgotten poet rediscovered by young hipsters, the actor easily leads the lovely and bittersweet drama.
Photo: Magnolia Pictures
The characters in Late Fame are deluding themselves, but they do it so thoroughly—and, occasionally, so movingly—that you almost don’t want to burst their bubble. Director Kent Jones’ second feature stars Willem Dafoe as a New Yorker who, long ago, had the briefest moment of notoriety as a hip underground poet. He hasn’t thought about that life in a while, but he’s about to become reacquainted with his younger self thanks to some impressionable new fans. Those who foolishly believe that, someday down the road, they’ll finally be recognized for their genius should watch this cautionary tale. It’s best not to have misconceptions about our supposed brilliance.
Ed Saxberger (Dafoe) published a book of poetry, Way Past Go, in 1979 that earned him a few nice writeups. But that was a different time: When we see Ed, it’s the present, and he’s been working at the post office for almost 40 years. He can’t even remember when he last tried to write a poem, and his working-class buddies at the bar have no idea about his literary past. That’s fine with Ed: Save for the occasional pestering call from his sister Barbara (Welker White), who’s annoyed that he won’t visit their dying brother Jimmy, things are pretty good.
Then one day, he’s accosted by Meyers (Edmund Donovan), an earnest, stiffly formal twentysomething. Nervous at meeting his hero, Meyers explains he’s a budding poet, declaring Way Past Go a forgotten masterpiece that has profoundly influenced him. Meyers talks like an uptight Whit Stillman protagonist as he invites Ed to hang out with him and his artistic cohorts, all of whom worship his poetry. Ed politely demurs, but soon enough, he finds himself hanging with Meyers’ crew. After all, how often do admiring strangers hail you as a visionary?
Penned by May December screenwriter Samy Burch, Late Fame is adapted from a novella by Austrian author Arthur Schnitzler, who died in 1931. (Ironically, considering the subject matter, the novella was not published until roughly 85 years after Schnitzler’s passing.) Jones, a longtime film critic, previously made the 2018 drama Diane, which similarly studied an aging character reassessing the roads taken and not taken. Dafoe believably plays Ed as an ordinary guy who, aside from unspecified tensions with his siblings, doesn’t appear to be nursing any psychic wounds. But the more he hangs out with Meyers and his friends, who have fancifully dubbed themselves the Enthusiasm Society, the more he is seduced by their praise—as well as their commitment to create revolutionary works that combat the modern world’s intellectual rot. The way the group sees it, Ed is even cooler because he wasn’t given his flowers back in the day. Plus, Charles Bukowski worked at the post office, too, only amplifying Ed’s cachet among these aspiring writers. Ed didn’t realize he needed such approbation, but once he starts getting it, he can’t get enough.
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