[Film: My Dinner with Andre, Louis Malle, 1981]
Glorious Disagreement:

The Energetic, Artistic Tension that Lends Meaning to Louis Malle’s My Dinner with Andre

 

Wallace Shawn by M.R.P. - Louis Malle, Wallace Shawn, Andre Gregory - conversation, analysis

Caricature Sketch by M.R.P.

Introduction:

It is an odd fact that one of the most daring and excellent films of the early 80s was a movie about two characters sitting down to dinner and having a full conversation with each other in real-time. The daring nature of My Dinner with Andre, of course, comes from the unabashed simplicity of its premise (as well as the far-ranging content of its writing), but that leaves the source of its excellence still to be accounted for.

Folks who have not seen it may hold the understandable-yet-mistaken notion that perhaps the film succeeds in the same way as other acclaimed single-location dialogue-driven movies, like The Man from Earth and 12 Angry Men—by having the characters slowly uncover or reveal shocking details over time. But the conversation in My Dinner with Andre is just not a traditional narrative; its conversation is rather more similar to, well, a conversation. One of the men, the eponymous Andre (played by André Gregory), shares some recent biography and some philosophical notions, and the other man, Wally (played by Wallace Shawn), responds to Andre’s ideas. That’s it. So, what is it then that makes this movie work so well? That makes it have consistently high ratings from critics and audiences alike? That made Siskel and Ebert each separately rank it as one of their top five films of the entire 1980s?

Well, by employing some basic concepts from my background in literary theory, this article will be my answer to those questions. And the answer has two parts. First, as much as I acknowledge all of the ways in which My Dinner with Andre breaks from tradition, and its lack of any significant twists or plot developments—I do think that underneath the meal and the meandering subject matter, through close attention we can uncover hints of, suggestions of, a structured plot in its writing. And second, once you’ve understood that structure, you can comes to grips with the meaning and power of the film, by gaining access to the character arc of its protagonist.

The nature of this article is such that it requires spoiling basic plot details of My Dinner with Andre, so you should only continue reading after this paragraph if you either do not mind spoilers or have already seen the film.

The Structure of My Dinner with Andre:

Between his framing narration and the conspicuous perspective of the movie’s title, it’s clear that our protagonist is Wally, an unsuccessful playwright and actor living in New York City.

My Dinner with Andre opens with him walking to the restaurant and detailing his struggles in the world of professional theatre. The narration is full of frustration and nervousness, both about his day-to-day struggles and about his friend obligating him to meet up with former fellow theatre professional Andre (about whom Wally has heard strange rumors).

Once both parties have reached the restaurant, the first major segment of the film begins; it is dominated by extended monologues from Andre, who describes various atavistic, ritualistic, and spiritual experiences he has had in recent years while attempting to re-instill meaning in his life and his work. To make explicit the understated structure I’m trying to draw out, let’s call this segment the first of three acts in the plot.

My Dinner with Andre movie poster - Louis Malle, Wallace Shawn, Andre Gregory - conversation, analysis

During this first section of My Dinner with Andre, Wally is aloof, almost mocking. He internally thinks to himself that he’ll spend the evening as something akin to an investigator, digging dispassionately into this odd character. For his part, Andre is forthcoming, sharing with apparent sincerity the unusual and possibly drug-fueled adventures and hallucinations he has had both at home and abroad. Wally continually and quietly eggs him on, and it may seem to the viewer that this rhythm will continue for the whole duration.

But then there’s a turn, seemingly unexpected by Wally. As he comes toward the end of his list of outlandish and occasionally pretentious tales, Andre suddenly becomes highly self-deprecating about them. He speaks of the foregoing years of experimentation as a needless and privileged distraction from life, which left him barely less discouraged than he was, and barely less fake than the people around him. Andre begins bemoaning the falsity of people in everyday life, masked figures that are empty and emotionless, throwing vacuous parties and never really engaging with life or reality.

This combination of, on the one hand, vulnerability and self-criticism, with, on the other hand, frustration at the shallowness of their fellow New Yorkers—draws Wally into agreement with him, and thus the second of My Dinner with Andre‘s three acts begins.

Wally becomes enthusiastic. The two echo each other’s sentences, castigating the alienation of modern life, wishing for authentic relationships with authentic people. They’re both bitter at everyone who doesn’t see the world as clearly as they feel that they see it, and so they get to be fat-headed together. It’s like a brief span of harmony, a stretch of common ground. But it’s also the shortest act of the film. The harmony begins experiencing interruptions, which begin in a strikingly innocuous way: with an electric blanket.

Wally mentions he uses one and is mildly concerned it may be changing the way his mind or body work in some fashion. Andre latches onto that concern, and contends an electric blanket is a potent symbol of modern isolation from the world, a disconnection even from the vicissitudes of weather. Wally rejects this conclusion, however, as he finds it an indispensable creature comfort. The subtext is that Andre considers Wally, insofar as he’s the type of person to use such a thing, to be living as (or in danger of living as) one of the hollow automata they’ve been whining about.

From here, their fundamental philosophical divide reappears, as Andre begins to make it clear that, self-deprecating or not, he actually does stand by most or all of the weird beliefs and experiences he enumerated in the first act—and does consider them to be among the few ways for a person to get back in touch with reality. And as Wally has now been drawn into the conversation, invested, no longer aloof, this difference begins moving them farther and farther apart. As I would render it, this initiates the third and final act of My Dinner with Andre.

They clash on whether theatre and related art can possibly wake people from the stupor of inauthenticity, on whether it’s necessary to leave one’s immediate surroundings in order to find meaning, and overall (at what I would deem to be the climax of the film) on whether the path to truth in life lies in scientific humanism or in mystical spirituality.

Erik Satie - Louis Malle, Wallace Shawn, Andre Gregory - conversation, analysisBut there is a resolution to this conflict, if a mediated one, in a momentary return to common ground. Wally concedes that, whatever its many successes, science has in the twentieth century brought about great evils as well. And Andre concedes that Wally’s unassuming everyday life can be fulfilling and authentic, moreso even than one full of affairs and adventures, provided that he always remains vigilant about staying intentional and attentive. Finally, Andre is able to get at the core of what initially drew Wally into the conversation near the start of the second act, that—whatever their methods or differences of opinion—the best aim one can have is to never settle into a pre-defined role and play it like an actor.

Andre pays for the meal, and the pair part amicably. Wally takes a cab home, narrating very briefly the effects of the conversation while one of Erik Satie’s beautiful Gymnopédie compositions plays.

Okay, so My Dinner with Andre can be described as following a three-act structure. But that’s not an interpretation; it’s a shape. If we think about the development of the conversation across those acts, however, I think you’ll see the character arc and meaning I promised at the outset emerge.

The Meaning of My Dinner with Andre:

A character arc is basically a way of talking about a character changing in some way across the duration of a narrative, having had formative experiences. For My Dinner With Andre‘s protagonist Wally, the formative experience he undergoes is being drawn into genuine engagement with a way of thinking which is alien to his own in almost every way.

Andre and Wally have reached the same diagnosis of modern life: that it puts people to sleep, blinds them to the reality of death, denies them real emotional access to the world and people around them, steeps them in perverse superficiality. But their prescriptions for that ailment couldn’t be further apart.

Andre’s visions, theatrical experiments, and attachment of grandiose mystical significance to simple coincidences may all be silly and even, at times, naive. He seems to Wally, as he does to most viewers, at first a ridiculous figure and later an outrageous one (at one point, for instance, casually comparing his menial interactions with the doorman of his building to chattel slavery). And as Andre confirms in the second act, his odd recent past hasn’t, at any rate, actually brought him all of the meaning and contentment he was seeking.

But Andre sees one vital thing that Wally doesn’t: that the underlying cause or causes of the inauthenticity manifesting in so many people’s lives must somehow be found in the way the affected people are living and thinking. The distractions from real emotional engagement have a form, and the form in question can resemble works of art, or cups of coffee, or cities, or electric blankets.

Wally certainly isn’t wrong to like such things, but he may be wrong to accept all of them uncritically. Never taking a step back from them and considering their role in his life has led him to the place he’s at in act one: in general, neurotic, anxious, annoyed; and in conversation with an interesting person, vaguely interested, viewing them more as an exhibit than a partner.

Electric Blanket (photo by Qurren) - Louis Malle, Wallace Shawn, Andre Gregory - conversation, analysis

Photo by Qurren

In act two of My Dinner with Andre, the discussion suddenly seems to Wally like a safe place in which to make and agree with banal remarks about everyone else being careless sheep. So he enters into the discussion. But Andre is nowhere near unctuous enough to remain polite and agreeable in the face of remarks with which he disagrees.

Thus we move into act three, which mirrors act one, but with the singular difference that now Wally is just as animated and passionate as Andre. So this time, as Andre offers mysticism, Wally counters with materialism. And so both parties become energized, active, authentic. It ends up being crucially important, then, that the pair are so frequently at odds. It’s disagreement itself that gives force to the film, that causes each party to have to defend their way of life and so produce some justification for it.

This energy sharpens Wally’s awareness of his conclusions, and turns his considerations away from the bills and jobs he talks about at the outset—toward the humans and community near him in the city, and in his life. His opening narration is curmudgeonly. But his closing narration is introspective and romantic. He’s not going to participate in Andre’s experimental theatre exercises in Eastern Europe after the end of the film. He hasn’t changed in beliefs, but in attitude and acuity. It’s the mere fact of having been pulled into a genuine and passionate conversation, full of tense debate, which has lent renewed authenticity to his life.

Conclusion:

The reading I’ve offered here is by no means a definitive interpretation of My Dinner with Andre. In particular, I’ve said nothing about the movie’s fixation on money, nor even really addressed its continual discussion of theatre. And I think you’ll also find that my reading of the film has nothing in particular to say about Andre’s obsession with the Holocaust, with him bringing up it or Nazis roughly every ten minutes or so without fail, and variously worrying that there may be fascist undertones to everything from freeform improvisational theatre to experimental ecocommunes to The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

The one advantage, however, that my take on My Dinner with Andre can boast over studies that delve more deeply into the specific topics of conversation—is that it makes a strong case for why so many viewers find such an apparently simple film so very compelling. Many viewers are wont to point to whichever character they personally agree with, and insist that that character holds the key to the meaning of the movie. To my mind, that’s a mistake. Ultimately, I believe it has nothing to do with the half of the conversation with which you comfortably agree, and everything to do with the half of the conversation with which you attentively disagree. That’s the half that gives you, as an audience member, an experiential arc that mirrors Wally’s.

Incidentally, there is worthwhile overlap between this perspective on My Dinner with Andre and the one held by Roger Ebert, who wrote in a 1999 retrospective,

What they actually say is not really the point, I think. I made a lot of notes about Andre’s theories and Wally’s doubts, but this is not a logical process, it is a conversation, in which the real subject is the tone, the mood, the energy. Here are two friends who have each found a way to live successfully. Each is urging the other to wake up and smell the coffee. The difference is that, in Wally’s case, it’s real coffee.

The experience of art is often composed of exposure to the multiplicity of voices described by Mikhail Bakhtin; yet this art provides that experience with uncommonly little dilution. A person is apt to come away from My Dinner with Andre with Satie’s sweet, clear, precise music in their head, and paying some additional careful attention to their own thoughts and experiences—past and present—and those of others.

[Film: My Dinner with Andre, Louis Malle, 1981]
Glorious Disagreement:

The Energetic, Artistic Tension that Lends Meaning to Louis Malle’s My Dinner with Andre

was last modified: April 20th, 2023 by Daniel Podgorski
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