Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond

Jim and Andy: The Great Beyond

THIS is the Andy Kaufman movie I always wanted to see, and it's undeniably an Andy Kaufman movie. His essence runs through the entire documentary like a dam just broke. Jim Carrey, as Kaufman would have wanted, blurred the line between reality and performance with no regard for anyone else's concern, and while it didn't necessarily pay off big in 1999, it's certainly starting to pay off now. One of my favorite confessions current Carrey gives is that Universal withheld the behind-the-scenes footage because of their fear that he'd "look like an asshole." And while indeed he does, especially in how he treats Milos Forman and Jerry Lawler, it also shows the positive side of what that kind of commitment to a role can bring, such as giving the Kaufman family a chance to be with Andy again.

I've always felt a slight disconnect from method acting, especially in period dramas where cameras wouldn't have existed at that time (Did Daniel Day-Lewis just ignore them in most of his movies?), but for Man on the Moon it's really the only way Jim Carrey could've gone about it. I love the genuine reactions that people like Bob Zmuda, Danny DeVito, Judd Hirsch, and especially the Kaufman family had to Carrey, because none of them could deny that Andy was really back. He truly was possessed in some way or another, and watching Andy work through Jim is oddly beautiful and truly wild. But what's far more wild is Jim as Tony Clifton, a vile lounge singer character that Kaufman and Zmuda would take turns performing as, because Jim Carrey does not shy away from fully becoming this slimy, awful character. Seeing him on set as Clifton is simultaneously fun and upsetting because of how disruptive and uncooperative he is; refusing to say lines, screaming at crew members, passing out from drinking, trying to drive with a paper bag over his face, etc. It's really not surprising that the cast and crew found themselves either dreading to work with him or just having fun watching the train wreck.

I could watch old footage of Jim as Andy forever, and if that's all the movie was I'd honestly be happy, but the other fascinating element to this documentary is the modern day Jim Carrey looking back on his career at that time. He had three of his biggest hits ever in one year (Ace Ventura, The Mask, and Dumb and Dumber were all released in 1994, the year I was born) and he continued his meteoric rise for a decade, essentially ending with Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. After that he wasn't forgotten, but he was no longer the number one guy. Today's Jim Carrey talks about what all of that did to him psychologically, like how he essentially lives in the real life Truman Show, but he also waxes philosophical about existence and the point to life in the first place, like how he essentially lives in the real life Truman Show. At one point he somewhat casually throws out the idea that he murdered his true identity in favor of the character that he's become famous for playing. It's very sad but also strangely comforting, as he's clearly learned a lot through the bizarre life that he's lived and he's come to a sort of bittersweet peace with himself, implying that perhaps he's finally able to resurrect the real him.

This film accomplishes what Kaufman's onscreen life seemed to be all about: showing that fame can lead to a certain form of identity crisis that can often cause a huge doubt in what is real and what existence is in the first place. 

Also, Jim Carrey and Bob Zmuda pranked the Playboy Mansion and it was really funny.