It occurs to me that even seventeen years after the fact, it might not behoove me to discuss in too much detail the precise state I was in during the creation of this review. Suffice it to say it was not a condition of sobriety, and in the years since, I’ve often wondered: does the movie hold up? Can I actually stand by this review? And now I must face the question head on. Hold on a minute.
Nowadays, when people talk about American Beauty, it’s largely in terms of how overpraised it was despite being superficial and facile and full of it and how lame (sorry for the ableist language) that Wes Bentley plastic bag bit was, and so on. So, some of the yunguns in the audience might be wondering, who WERE these yoyos who thought the movie was so great?