“A deliriously funny and deeply moving comedy”

Growing up, we’re often told the importance of following our dreams. This is also usually the point where some of life’s harsher realities make their swift entrance, proving that not everyone is actually cut out to pursue ambitions far larger than their circumstances tend to allow. Still, it’s a wonderful experience to just luxuriate in the fantasy that anyone can become a star if they just take a leap of faith and surrender to the possibility that good things come to those who put themselves out there. Jesse Eisenberg knows this all too well, since he has spent the past twenty years steadily pursuing his own artistic interests. It has placed him in quite an interesting position, particularly now that he has taken up more work behind the camera, where his voice is gradually becoming essential. His third directorial outing may just be his best to date, with The Debut being his most recent attempt to reflect on a subject very close to his heart, drawing on his own experiences growing up as a budding young actor in the early 1990s New Jersey that shaped his artistic journey. The film follows Mona, a mild-mannered suburban housewife who, in an effort to distract herself from her humdrum domestic life in which she is constantly ignored, decides to audition for a local regional theatre production. Miraculously, she gets the part despite having never acted before – but the joy is quickly challenged when she encounters Jerry, the cutthroat director whose experience proves to be a mismatch for Mona and her pursuit of a kind of unattainable perfection that has driven even more experienced artists to the brink of madness. A deliriously funny and deeply moving comedy that knows precisely how to hold the audience’s attention, The Debut is a remarkable piece of filmmaking that tends to reveal itself as far more challenging than we’d anticipate at a cursory glance.

The Debut has its roots in Eisenberg’s own life, taking place in similar circumstances to his initial forays into acting. His love for theatre has always been evident through his work as a playwright (which emerged concurrently with his entry into acting), so it only seemed logical that he would eventually choose to explore the subject in some form on screen. He takes a broad and somewhat intimidating concept, and uses it as an entry point into a vibrant and captivating exploration of the arts through the perspective of someone who dares to take a chance, auditioning for a show that she wholeheartedly believes she will be able to conquer without realizing just how difficult this industry can be, especially to newcomers. Showbusiness is a place where more dreams are crushed than come true, and it can be brutal to those who are not well-equipped to handle it. However, rather than approaching it from the usual perspective of someone taking a risk and getting their big break (which would be the more conventional narrative structure), Eisenberg looks at it from a more unique angle – this isn’t solely a story about someone getting the opportunity to realize a long-dormant ambition, but also an exploration of the journey to becoming an artist. Make no mistake: the director is not at all interested in a fawning tale of a put-upon woman taking the courageous leap into the unknown, and instead cobbles together an often brutally scathing satire of how artistic expression can sometimes push people on both sides of the artistic aisle to the point of madness, where their grasp on reality falls apart at the seams, leading to hostility, frustration and conflict. This makes the film so much richer, since it’s evidently not merely an audacious tale of the importance of following one’s dreams, but also a fascinating deconstruction of how someone can be pushed past the point of sanity in pursuit of something elusive. This kind of story can only emerge from years of experience, and having worked across film, television and theatre, Eisenberg seems to be in an unusually strong position to comment on the harsh realities that come with following a dream that many would consider unrealistic or frankly just impossible.

There are many moving parts to The Debut, and they all come down to highlighting one particular aspect, which is the performance by Julianne Moore (who reunites with Eisenberg after she helped bring his debut When You Finish Saving the World to life) in a role clearly written specifically for her unique set of talents. In no uncertain terms, there is a reason why Moore is considered one of the finest actors to ever work in the medium, and while it may seem like the part of Mona Friedman could be effectively played by any decent actor based on a glance, there is depth here that required someone who could capture absolutely every intricate nuance of the character with not only sincere dedication, but a deep and undeniable appreciation for the nuances that accompany the story. It’s difficult not to veer towards exaggeration when discussing this performance, since it is such a well-crafted, meaningful depiction of this ordinary woman who feels alienated from the rest of the world, and only comes to feel like she belongs when she is in the company of other actors. They turn out to have all experienced that same sense of crippling isolation, finding their refuge in the theatre, where the ability to hide behind a mask actually allows them to somehow reveal their true selves. Moore is astonishing in the film – every word and movement feels purposeful, contributing to the portrait of someone who is trying to find a place in a community that welcomes her in and helps her break out of the shell that she has used as her protection from the outside world. Her primary adversary is the brilliant Paul Giamatti, who once again plays a lovable curmudgeon, a director who has no hesitation in pushing his actors beyond their breaking point if he believes it will improve the quality of the art and help him realize his vision. Giamatti’s Jerry proves to be a worthy rival to Moore’s defiant Mona, the pair playing off each other in a way that evokes so many of the iconic actor pairings in the past. Their chemistry is astounding, and their ability to find the complexity lingering beneath these characters is nothing short of incredible.

The execution of the core themes is almost as important as the performances themselves, since without the right tonal and emotional approach, The Debut would’ve been far too muddled. Eisenberg actively avoids conventional storytelling techniques from the beginning, choosing instead to concentrate on the more intriguing qualities that would otherwise be missing with a more traditional approach. There is a degree of magical realism that guides much of this film, with the story existing in a slightly elevated version of reality, where everything is slightly off-center (without seeming unnatural or inauthentic), and where there is a heightened sense of eccentricity that governs these interactions. This not only plays into the film’s underlying focus on the idea of the protagonist making her way through a world that is strange and unusual until she finds her sanctuary in the theatre (notoriously a place built entirely around artifice, which is one of the many tremendous ironies that this film gleefully explores), but it also gives the story some incredible emotional texture, allowing Eisenberg to plumb the depths of this character’s journey without having to justify every decision through logic. The dreamlike tone is exceptionally well-utilized, especially because of how sparing the director is – there’s always a threat of a film like The Debut becoming idiosyncratic to the point of being twee and overly quaint, but through the careful consideration of every detail it becomes a masterful example of handling many different tones in tandem. It is particularly notable in how it refuses to be sentimental – at first, we expect a charming and plucky character study about someone defying the odds and succeeding. But it becomes quite clear that Eisenberg isn’t as intrigued by this as he is by observing human behavior in a slightly heightened but still very recognizable form. Every interaction has a subtle resonance much deeper than initially thought possible from such a simple but undeniably evocative premise that reveals itself to have layers that are unexpectedly very moving in ways that can often be quite unconventional but never anything short of entirely entertaining.

At first, we may not expect all that much from The Debut. It presents itself as a charming and enticing tale of following your dreams and embracing the impossible regardless of any potential consequences, which tend to be more social in the context of this film. However, it soon reveals itself to be far more complex and engaging than even those who were already on board with this relatively wacky concept could have anticipated. Eisenberg aims for the jugular, setting out to lampoon an industry he both adores and feels intimidated by, which is reflected in nearly every frame of this film. It takes a lot of effort to navigate the very narrow boundary between satire and affection, since it seems like an artist can only provoke or celebrate, a decision that Eisenberg adamantly refuses to make. Instead, he proves that there is always a way to find the balance between the two with the right approach, which is ultimately what gives this film such a unique energy both narratively and in terms of style. We’re transported to the version of New Jersey that exists primarily in the director’s head, although, like with his refusal to be too earnestly sentimental, he also avoids unnecessary nostalgia; a fascinating detail considering how much of this film is formed from his personal memories and recollections during his formative years. He opens it up to the audience in the form of this blisteringly funny and deeply moving film that serves many functions: a musical comedy, a celebration of the arts and an existential odyssey in which we see a genuinely gifted filmmaker address a number of fascinating themes, each one carrying an abundance of meaning. Anchored by extraordinary work from the two primary actors (both Moore and Giamatti are delivering some of their strongest performances to date, and their commitment to their respective parts is astounding), as well as a sprawling cast of iconic stage actors who have very small but memorable parts, and driven by a unique vision defined by both curiosity and passion, The Debut is a terrific film that knows exactly what it takes to keep the audience invested, going in pursuit of something more abstract but still very familiar, and becoming a tremendous success in the process.