The Road To Wellville

THE ROAD TO WELLVILLE wasn’t well traveled in 1994, critics dissing and patrons missing. Alas, yet another case of elitist ‘experts’ and the misled mob collectively pulling a ‘Kid Shaleen‘ sharpshoot feat of “He did it! He missed the barn!” Boiling down T.C. Boyle’s novel from a hefty 496 pages to a puckish 120 minutes of screen time, the dependably surprising Alan Parker scripted, produced & directed, feeding a sterling cast a deliciously strange slice of authentic Americana pie, a ribald (yet ‘civilized’) saga of dreams, schemes and, uh…reams. *

Michigan, the early 1900’s. Among those who have journeyed to the renowned and elaborate spa resort known as the Battle Creek Sanitarium are ‘Will & Eleanor Lightbody’ (Matthew Broderick & Bridget Fonda), a troubled married couple. They hope the innovative diet & exercise treatment regimen developed by the institutes forcefully charismatic founder Dr. John Harvey Kellogg (Anthony Hopkins) will re-spark their love life. Also visiting is ambitious ‘Charles Ossining’ (John Cusack), intent not on health but wealth, getting rich off the new fad for breakfast cereals, with competitors hoping to compete with Kellogg’s invention of corn flakes. When they’re not being ‘cleansed’ by some of the new-fangled gizmos the zealous Doctor uses on his flock, Will & Eleanor are sexually tempted by others they meet (the patient-packed place is a hotbed of hot beds), while broke and desperate Charles partners with ‘Goodloe Bender’ (Michael Lerner), a wildly confident if shady huckster. They work on secretly devising their own cereal sensation, helped by missing link ‘George’ (Dana Carvey), estranged foster son of Kellogg (he had 42) who looks and acts six raisins short of a cup.

“My own stools, Sir, are gigantic and have no more odor than a hot biscuit.”

Shot on location at the Mohonk Mountain House near New Paltz, New York, and in Wilmington, North Carolina, the production is lavishly appointed in the sets, props and a battalion of milling extras, decked out in 1,200 period costumes. Rachel Portman’s bouncy score gooses the fad-flamed hopeful lunacy into some very amusing vignettes, and the cast have a field day romp with the Coen-like characters and all around, all-American weirdness. Cusack, Fonda and Broderick are most adept at fluster, Carvey is merrily deranged, Lerner gets his best chance to shine since Barton Fink and there are numerous plum turns in support, with standouts from John Neville and Colm Meaney. Best of all, Hopkins gets rein to cut loose in a delightful, overlooked comic performance as the pontificating guru, bombastic but sincere; equipped with toothy makeup, he chomps into every syllable like a breathless blend of Teddy Roosevelt and Bugs Bunny.

Critics had a collective off-day, and box office in the States and Canada was anemic, $6,562,000, 135th place. Around $20,000,000 more was collected elsewhere, but given the $25,000,000 production expense it was marked a failure. Not by my reckoning, nor that of author Boyle, who pronounced Parker’s take “daring, experimental, ballsy–it’s something new for Christ’s sake, new!…and killingly funny.”

“Follow your heart. It’s the one organ that will surely to let you down one day, so don’t waste it while you’re living.”

Tasty portions of screwiness are served up by Lara Flynn Boyle, Camryn Manheim, Jacob Reynolds (perfect as young George), Traci Lind, Roy Brocksmith, Norbert Weisser and Marshall Efron.