It’s too bad that the Seth Rogen-James Franco-Kim Jong Un movie took the title The Interview, because it probably would have been perfect for James Ponsoldt’s film about author David Foster Wallace being interviewed by magazine writer David Lipsky about writing the novel Infinite Jest and becoming a literary celebrity and pop culture curiosity.
But The End of the Tour is certainly appropriate too, taking place during the final stop on Wallace’s book tour to promote Infinite Jest. The title also alludes to Wallace’s tragically short life, ended when he committed suicide in 2008 at the age of 46. That event doesn’t occur during the movie, though it does provide the framing device for the story, which is mostly told in flashback through Lipsky’s memory of the five days he spent with Wallace in an attempt to interview him for a Rolling Stone feature.
Going in, I wondered if the movie would acknowledge Wallace’s suicide with anything more than a note before the closing credits. Thinking about it now, there was really no other way to tell this story than to address it right off the bat. After all, the film is based on Lipsky’s 2010 book, Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself, which he was inspired to write after Wallace died. Wallace’s death would have been the pink elephant hanging over this movie throughout had the story not begun with Lipsky (played by Jesse Eisenberg) hearing about it from an editor, 12 years after his time with Wallace.
The burden that this movie carries is presenting a faithful portrayal of Wallace. I imagine that’s an obstacle that some of his ardent fans won’t be able to get over, and could prevent them from enjoying this film. I get that. If I was more familiar with Wallace’s writing and his personality, other than the couple of interviews I’ve watched or listened to, I might feel the same way.
Others might have difficulty grasping Jason Segel — known largely for goofball roles in How I Met Your Mother, Forgetting Sarah Marshall and I Love You, Man — playing a dramatic role as a real-life figure. I think I had my own doubts about that, joining the naysayers when photos of Segel wearing Wallace’s signature bandana during filming hit the internet. He looked like a guy playing dress-up, like an actor wearing a David Foster Wallace costume.
Yet there was also something physically right about Segel for the role, being a tall guy whose presence can overwhelm those standing next to him, who naturally becomes the focus of attention in a room. From what I know about Wallace, that seemed appropriate.
Also, though Segel has starred in comedies like Sex Tape, The Muppets and The Five-Year Engagement, he’s also demonstrated through performances in Freaks and Geeks and Jeff, Who Lives at Home that he’s capable of playing a guy who carries some sadness. And not just a sad clown, but someone who’s masking some pain, putting on a facade for others.
That is absolutely at the heart of The End of the Tour. Not only does Wallace struggle to talk about his depression and how it might inform his writing with an inquisitive writer looking for a good story (one that would justify a feature of which Lipsky’s editor is skeptical), but he’s constantly thinking about how he should present himself to this reporter. And having written such profiles himself, Wallace knows exactly what Lipsky is looking for: a great quote, a moment of insight, or some example of quirky behavior that might make for an entertaining story.
Wallace’s meta-awareness of the situation fuels the central conflict between him and Lipsky during the movie as well. The author’s mind is almost too smart, too busy to deal with a banal interview for a magazine feature. How do you talk about things like writing and celebrity anyway? So he constantly can’t help but pick it apart and analyze what Lipsky is trying to do. And though it’s not said, maybe Wallace knows he’s a better writer than Lipsky and is — subconsciously or not — trying to nudge him in what he sees as the right direction. Maybe that wouldn’t make for a good article in Rolling Stone, but for Wallace, it would be interesting to him.
However, Lipsky is no dummy. Though he’s certainly guilty of envying Wallace’s success as an author and his enormous talent, Lipsky (who just published a far less successful novel of his own) quickly realizes what his interview subject is trying to do. Can’t Wallace just do the interview — an interview he agreed to, Lipsky points out more than once — and go along with something that most people would be more than happy to participate with? In one of the best scenes in the film, Lipsky calls Wallace out for acting like he’s smarter than everyone else he encounters and essentially talking down to them (or trying to control the situation).
When the red light on Lipsky’s tape recorder goes on, it becomes threatening. Oh, now I have to watch what I say. This is going on the record. Of course, that creates a natural tension. What is the interview and what is just a regular conversation between two guys? Does everything have to be recorded or taken down in a notepad?
Lipsky also pushes the boundaries of the situation, at one point asking one of Wallace’s friends (whom they meet up with at the tour’s final reading in Minneapolis) if they can talk about what he was like in grad school. Any reporter doing his or her job would do the same thing, even if it suddenly makes things awkward.
Yet Wallace resents Lipsky attempting to work outside of a situation he’s trying to control and accuses Lipsky of flirting with a woman he once used to date. Perhaps Lipsky is unwittingly flirting, but it’s yet another example of Wallace of using what he knows about Lipsky — who admitted in an earlier conversation that he carried on simultaneous relationships with two women — to regain whatever authority he feels he’s lost.
Ultimately, The End of the Tour is a fascinating exploration of the dynamics of an interview situation, especially one often used for a feature story in which the writer spends some amount of time with the subject.
Though the reporter typically tries to ingratiate himself with the person he’s covering, kind of buddying up in an attempt to create a comfort level and thus capture some unguarded moments, it’s an inherently phony situation. It’s phony on the other side of the equation as well. As the subject, the interviewer isn’t your friend. He or she is looking for a good story and some memorable copy. And even if any sort of bond is formed, it’s almost certainly temporary. Both parties will almost certainly both go their own ways. Though as this story shows, maybe that bond isn’t quite as superficial as believed.
Ponsoldt probably won’t get enough credit for just letting two wonderful actors embody their characters and see where they can be taken. But making a film that consists mostly of two people talking to each other takes some work to make compelling, no matter how good the dialogue might be. Of course, it certainly helps when he has Segel and Eisenberg giving him great performances.
“Revelation” is a compliment that probably gets used too often when talking about breakout or surprise turns by actors. Yet the term applies to Segel’s work here. As Wallace, he shows that he’s much better than the material he’s been given in recent years. This should lead to far more substantial parts for him in the future. If it doesn’t, that would be a damn shame.
But if David Foster Wallace is the best role Segel ever gets, then at least he got to embody — and not imitate — a complex, tortured man who still remains a mystery seven years after his death. And as viewers, we get to watch a performance that should get some awards love in the months to come.
