Transamerica Review

December 1, 2005 11:17 AM
by [email]

Sabrina “Bree” Osborne- the transgender woman Felicity Huffman plays in Duncan Tucker’s “Transamerica”- isn’t a literary hero along the lines of say, Truman Capote- which may be why Huffman hasn’t received a whisper of the Oscar buzz endorsing Philip Seymour Hoffman.

It’s a little early for predictions, but if December doesn’t headline some really spectacular Best Actress contenders, Huffman will almost certainly emerge as the race’s dark horse candidate. If fairness- and open-minds- prevail, she might even win.

Like Hoffman, Huffman takes her performance beyond impersonation. Yes, Bree is fictional and Truman is not, but it would have been easy to phone in a stereotypical drag queen gleaned from repeat viewings of “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” or the documentary “Paris is Burning.”

Not only is Huffman believable as a woman with complex female insecurities, she’s believable as a man- a distinction that would probably make her character more than a little bit upset.

As “Transamerica” opens, Bree has successfully lived as a woman for a year, and is eagerly awaiting the operation that will make her ‘transformation’ complete. One week before the scheduled surgery, a New York prison calls with some distressing news- a young inmate is Bree’s son, Toby (Kevin Zegers), the result of a brief fling when she was younger, hairier, and went by “Stanley.”

Under direct orders from her therapist (Elizabeth Pena), Bree goes to New York to bail out her newfound offspring, a seventeen-year-old hustler with porn star aspirations. Toby is living in a filthy apartment, and he immediately pegs Bree as a Christian aid worker doling out cash and scruples to abandoned kids. Again under direct orders from her therapist, Bree invites him to travel with her to her LA home.

Once you get past the slightly bogus set-up, this contemporary twist on the typical road flick is as easy to enjoy as it is to predict. Since Bree has absolutely no intention of revealing her paternal identity, the movie depends on two essential confrontations- Toby finding out that Bree is 1) a man, and 2) his father- and on the chemistry between Huffman and her very handsome co-star.

Thankfully, Tucker is one of the boldest writer/directors working today. Even formulaic plot points are given memorable spins, and the movie has many random and bizarre little moments that take the focus off the formula. As for chemistry, it’s present in heaps.

Zegers, whose previous credits include three “Air Buds” and a turn in “Dawn of the Dead,” gives a career-making performance as a lonely, desperate street kid who bonds slowly with his birth dad before he realizes why.

The best part of the film involves Bree’s visit to the Arizona home of her wealthy parents, who, as played by Burt Young and a scene-stealing Fionnula Flannagan, are exactly the type of parents you don’t want if you’re thinking about switching genders.

After the initial shock of seeing their once-son now-daughter, the parents vacillate back and forth between doting on Toby and attempting to persuade Bree to switch back to male. Only Bree’s alcoholic younger sister (Carrie Preston) acknowledges her new identity. “You’re still Stanley,” she says, “it’s just that all the boy pulp has been taken out.”

This might be the first voiced honesty in a movie full of characters in various stages of denial. With each consecutive adventure, Tucker seems to be asking “who’s the freak?” If Bree is abnormal, what about the drugged-out vegan hitchhiker who pops up for some memorable nudity? Or the twelve-year-old who makes out with Toby in a roadside restaurant? Tucker’s tactics may not be exactly subtle, but they are effective.

Whether or not “Transamerica” is seen depends on moviegoers’ willingness to spend their Friday night with a transsexual and an aspiring porn star, and I’m willing to bet that if “Desperate Housewives”- for which Huffman recently won an Emmy- wasn’t a knock-out success, the movie wouldn’t have gotten a release.

In this instance, the Sunday night line up is really something to be thankful for. As much as I like “Housewives,” I’m glad that Huffman has gone beyond Wisteria Lane.

Grade: A-
By Jenny S. Halper