I sometimes joke about being a 47th-tier celebrity. From my TV work I occasionally get recognized and chatted up, and I also share a name with a famous person (actually, several), which has led to a few disappointed autograph-seekers when my appearance at some film-related talk was ineptly promoted.
It’s a weird experience to be treated as if you’re important, when inside you’re a self-doubting loser like everybody else.
So imagine being Jeff Nimoy. He has a famous name (owing to his fairly distant cousin, Leonard) and made a reputation for himself in anime while still young. In the semi-autobiographical “Fame-ish,” which he also wrote and directed, he’s now a washed-up, fifty-ish has-been who can’t get any work and hasn’t been laid for 10 years.
But he finds that his name is still in high demand at geek cons for the voice acting he used to do. So when he’s staring at a bank balance in the single digits and Geek Con in Madison, Wis., calls up offering a few thousand bucks for a weekend appearance, Nimoy is all on board.
The resulting comedy/drama is part “Almost Famous,” part “Lost in Translation” and a lot television sitcom. Nimoy has a sweet, likeable screen presence as a shlubby guy still trying to figure out life more than halfway through it. I really was interested to see how someone navigating the fringes of fame feels about showbiz and how it’s chewed up and spit out people like him.
And, at least for a while, that’s what “Fame-ish” is. The first half of the movie is a delight, as Nimoy arrives in town and finds there are still hordes of people dying to meet and talk to him. He’s also astonished to learn that the con game -- pun fully intended -- has changed a lot since he last was there, and now you can charge $20 a pop just for an autograph.
(An aside here. I’ve met plenty of famous folks and have never asked for an autograph. I don’t really understand them. Is it supposed to be proof that you met them? Why do you feel you need that? Isn’t the experience itself what’s important, not showing off to others?)
An invisible person back in L.A., Nimoy bathes in the rediscovered adulation and enjoys the chance to meet up with folks he used to work with. Some, like Brian Donovan and Lex Lang, have literally made a second career out of living off the notoriety of their first one. They don’t really work anymore, but now their job is harvesting their modest fame for cash.
In a conceit of the production, most of the actors use their real names, which may or may not bear much resemblance to their actual lives and careers.
Jeff is also pleased to meet up with Nikki (Boyer), a former fangirl who took Nimoy’s long-ago advice to move to L.A. and became a semi-famous voice actress herself. She and Jeff immediately start exchanging goo-goo eyes, and enjoy a charming little nascent romance for a bit.
Then the movie takes a weird turn in the second half, and never really makes it back. We learn that Nikki and Brian used to date, and he’s jealous of her newfound romance, and a boring little love triangle game crops up with sabotage text messages and the like. There’s also a dalliance with an 18-year-old fan (Margo Graff) that comes back to haunt Jeff. It’s supposed to be funny-creepy and mostly is just creepy.
There’s a lot of cultural touchstones relating to anime, such as Digimon and Trigun and other stuff I’ve never heard of. I suppose if you came from that corner of geek culture, it might be more thrilling than it was to me. The movie trundles along all the expected plot points on its way to the end.
Jeff Nimoy had an interesting an idea for a movie, and made half of one. I guess that’s more than most people ever do.
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ADo1g-oHow4[/embed]