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For Movie Lovers

 One of the best screenplays I've considered recently is "Office Space."


This film came out in 1999--the Holy Grail Year of Motion Pictures, the year of "Boys Don't Cry," "Election," "American Beauty," "Ripley," "Sixth Sense," "Being John Malkovich"--but I think that, even in '99, "Office Space" didn't really have competitors. It's a script that buzzes with ideas and rage and humor; it's a case of knowing, right away, you're in good hands.

Ron Livingston works in a cubicle. The overlords have just recently altered the style of the official workplace cover sheet, but Livingston has become sloppy, and he has (in one case) reverted to the *old* cover sheet. This means that not one but seven superiors must stop by to clear their throats and ask, awkwardly, if Livingston could ditch the old cover sheets, mmmkay?

Meanwhile, across the street, Jennifer Aniston works at "Tchotchkes," a restaurant where all employees are required to wear fifteen buttons on a pair of suspenders. The buttons are called "flair." If you wear just fifteen, you might not really be optimizing your chance to "express yourself," but no one will *order* you to wear more than fifteen. But maybe you'd think about it? When Livingston learns about "flair," he asks, "You know who else had to wear special badges? Jewish people, in Nazi Germany." Aniston looks across the table, in shock, and then laughs nervously.

Mike Judge wrote this script--and he has his own way of seeing the world. It's such a pleasure to get to study Earth through Judge's eyes. A workplace party almost becomes violent when one employee doesn't get a piece of retirement cake. Fights erupt over the desired volume on one colleague's NPR-streaming radio. An angry peon is named Michael Bolton, and his enemies ask, "Are you related to THE Michael Bolton?" Because this is the sort of silly question that actual people sometimes ask--here in the world.

Mike Judge wrote films after "Office Space"--but none of his recent work has earned the "cult status" of the 1999 script.

Just a treat to stumble on this spiky, idiosyncratic, smart, smart writing.
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