I was so wrong. In cases such as this, I love being wrong.
“Dinner in America,” written, directed, and edited by Adam Rehmeier, is a movie with anti-establishment anti-social quicksilver coursing through its veins, but at its heart it is a sweet love story, one of the sweetest in recent memory. Sometimes a movie comes along and surprises you. Sometimes a movie makes a poor first impression but on closer examination you realize there’s more there than meets the eye. (I have always admired Roger Ebert’s transparent review of “The King of Comedy,” since it’s as much about how he struggled with the movie, and resisted it, but came back to it, hoping to see it in a deeper way). To contradict Allen Ginsberg, “First thought” isn’t necessarily always “best thought.” By the end of “Dinner in America,” I looked back on my initial resistance with a small sense of awe.
Simon (Kyle Gallner) is the aforementioned “pyro,” a drifter and bad-boy. He is Middle America’s worst nightmare, as the opening sequence shows. He has no respect for anything or anyone. “Blue Velvet” portrayed the beautiful outward face of suburbia. All those flowers and sprinklers and perfect blue skies. “Dinner in America” sees no beauty in any of it. There’s a scene where Simon stalks across a vacant lot, all cracked concrete with weeds bursting through, while in the background looms a giant glass office building. The contrast is stark, and says so much. Burn it all down.
After rampaging his way through one random family, he meets 20-year-old college dropout Patty (Emily Skeggs), whom we have already seen at home with her awful parents (Pat Healy and Mary Lynn Rajskub), who treat her like she’s a tween. Patty works in a pet store, and suffers constant harassment from two boys in track suits, who taunt her with sexual insults, and repeatedly call her a “retard.” (The language is pretty rough throughout, and a tad heavy-handed.) Patty is awkward, lonely, and in a state of arrested development. She secretly loves the punk rock band Psy Ops, and she calls the lead singer, a mystery man named “John Q. Public,” her “music boyfriend.” Patty has never had a boyfriend, music or otherwise.