In ‘Late Fame’ Willem Dafoe Proves a Timely Delight

When news came in about Kent Jones’s new picture, “Late Fame,” I went scrambling to my bookshelves with a vague memory that a novel of the same name was wedged into them. There it was: A novella by the Viennese author and dramatist, Arthur Schnitzler. Born in 1862, Schnitzler would go on to hang with an impressive fin-de-siècle crowd, among them, the father of Zionism, Theodor Herzl, the novelist Stefan Zweig, and the man who invented Bambi, Felix Salten. Schnitzler died in 1931 of a brain hemorrhage.“Late Fame” was left unpublished during the author’s lifetime and didn’t see the light of day until 2014 whereupon it was hailed by many literary lights as a classic. How familiar cinematic lights may be with Schnitzler will entail just how invested they are in Stanley Kubrick’s final film, “Eyes Wide Shut” (1999). Schnitzler’s “Traumnovelle” (1926) was repurposed by Kubrick and screenwriter Frederic Raphael. The star of the film, Tom Cruise, is an actor whose screen presence, for this critic, is best kept at arm’s length. For his Schnitzler adaptation, Mr. Jones opted for Willem Dafoe, an actor whose career encompasses both blockbuster Hollywood fare of wide appeal and indie projects whose audience share is considerably smaller. Mr. Dafoe brings a rare intensity to his craft, a quality that has only become more indelible as the crags in his face deepen. The man who has played Jesus Christ, Vincent Van Gogh and, lest we forget, a four-armed Martian warrior in Andrew Stanton’s “John Carter” (2012), is known for taking on characters who are idiosyncratic when they’re not villainous. Such a treat, then, to see him as a tender soul in “Late Fame.”Mr. Jones, along with screenwriter Samy Burch, have changed the milieu from 1890s Vienna to 2026 Manhattan. The protagonist is a post office veteran and one-time poet, Ed Saxberger. He sorts mail at the Varick Street Station and lives alone a block or so east at a walk-up apartment. If his demeanor is somewhat dour it’s also somewhat content. He spends evenings playing pool and drinking beer with his buddies. Ed has seen better days; he’s also seen worse. Such is life.Ed’s life is not without complications. His sister leaves telephone messages to the effect that their brother is on his last legs and will likely soon pass away. The reason for Ed’s estrangement from his sibling is never explained, though it’s clear that it weighs on him. Another complication is a young man who’s been loitering across the street. Ed is oblivious to this stranger, but downstairs neighbor Paulie, Tony Torn in a performance that leaves no moment unstolen, points him out. Wilson Meyers (Edmund Donovan) is a fan of a particular book of poetry: “Way Past Go.” Its author? Ed Saxberger.Ed is flabbergasted to learn not only of Meyers’ admiration for the book, published once and only once in 1979, but that there is a coterie of twenty-somethings who hold it in high esteem. Against his better inclinations, Ed gives into his curiosity and soon meets a handful of misfits at a nearby coffee joint, all of whom look up to him as a lodestar in a culture overrun by cell-phones, influencers and dwindling attention spans. A bunch of snobs, in other words, and Mr. Donovan is excellent as the most snobbish of them all. Meyers speaks in a labored, over-educated manner that serves as an important source of this film’s comedy.“Late Fame” is very funny even as its overriding tone is bittersweet. The plot increases in bitterness with the arrival of the lone woman in Meyers’ circle, the flamboyant Gloria (Greta Lee). She’s older than the others, and works as a chanteuse at a cramped cafe squirreled away in Greenwich Village. Gloria’s mannerisms are over-the-top but hard to resist, and Ed is as vulnerable to her beauty as any of the boys. Gloria’s archness suggests a troubled psyche. Ms. Lee handles the vagaries of this character with supple and sometimes scary brilliance.Greta Lee in ‘Late Fame.’ Magnolia PicturesMr. Jones’s picture is touched by grace, weighted by reckoning, and deeply moving as Ed comes to terms with the conundrums of a privileged elite and the ghosts of unrealized dreams. The lone complaint about Ms. Burch’s script is that the tensions between the members of Meyers and his group, The Enthusiasm Society — I told you they were pretentious — radiates well-worn sitcom vibes. Otherwise, “Late Fame” is a winning encomium to a long-gone bohemia and a gently-stated lesson in the benefits of forgiveness. It should not be missed.

In ‘Late Fame’ Willem Dafoe Proves a Timely Delight

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