Being There

I saw Being There, starring Peter Sellers, when it was first released in 1979. I only saw it once, but it was the kind of film that makes a lasting impression.  I recall that at the time it was quite an intriguing film. It highlighted the influence of television on our society, and the artistic quality of the film created a unique environment in which to explore the dynamics of human perceptions and relationships.  

The story follows a simple-minded gardener named Chance who is thrust out into the world at midlife after having lived his whole life on a wealthy estate where he knew nothing of the world except gardening and what he saw on television.  When the wealthy estate owner dies, Chance is on his own for the first time.  His initial encounter with an urban street gang prompts Chance to point his TV remote at them, as though to try to change the channel. That moment, as much of the film, evokes both humor and a poignant sense of pity. 

Chance soon finds himself taken into the family of a well-to-do senator in Washington after the senator’s wife bumps into him (quite literally with her car). Chance’s simple observations about the only thing he knows, gardening, soon make him the toast of the town as the people and the television media put their own spin on the words he speaks. 

There is one scene that stood out as a significant side commentary and surprised most of the audience where I saw the film. It is a scene where the black former housekeeper from the estate where Chance had lived saw him on television and gave a pointed soliloquy about how “You only have to be white to make it in America.” (see below)

I happened upon an article from 2017 that speaks of the continued relevance of Being There:  “Being There: Still funny, but newly grim and topical,” by Ben Sachs.  A couple of quotes from the online article are in order:

“Many have called Being There, both the book and the film, a premonition of the Reagan revolution, which came to power, in part, on the strength of Reagan's ability to communicate on TV. The deathlike air of the film certainly connotes the end of something big, while the humor comments on the timeless human desire to be deceived by something that sounds good. These opposing elements give Being There an enduring complexity, although sometimes it's too bleak in its outlook to be laugh-out-loud funny.”

“In its deep cynicism about American media and politics, Being There may also have a renewed topicality in 2017. The film's penultimate moment finds a D.C. insider proposing the idea that Chance runs for president himself. I suspect that … at least one audience member will want to discuss what a Chance the gardener administration might look like and whether it would be preferable to the one that's currently running the country.”

Being There was Peter Sellers final role (he died a year after the film was released).  It was also Hal Asby’s last cinematic success as a director, having made his mark with previous films such as Coming Home, and Harold and Maude.

For those who want to see a little bit of what we’re talking about in Being There, below are some clips and film commentary on the movie.  The second clip is the soliloquy about "You only have to be white" that I referred to earlier. 

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