Rewind, 1979 in Film: Being There

It may be 40 years since the release of Hal Ashby’s Being There, but somehow the film is even more relevant now. Especially with the rise of fake news and social media, which allow us to construct a false reality to suit our own viewpoint and interpretation of the world that surrounds us. We seem so obsessed with creating our own constructed narrative, that Being There is a perfect antidote to wake us up from this false reality.

To remake Being There would be an absolute crime. However, I can’t help but admit that there’s a part of me that is curious to see what commentary could be made on today’s society obsessed with Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and Instagram. I cannot help but wonder whether Chance’s comments become meme’s exploding across the internet. And whether he would become a major social influencer on the scale of Kayne West. Perhaps even Donald Trump would end up basing his economic strategy on Chance’s commentary on the seasons? Still, Being There is such a landmark film of its time, that it’s hard to envision the story being told in any other era than the 1970s.

“Being There is a perfect antidote to wake us up from this false reality.”

Based on the satirical novel by Jerzy Kosinski, Being There is a black comedy that examines how we construct false narratives, based on how we wish to perceive information from our own social/economic class as well as gender and race. Peter Sellers gives his career-best performance as Chance the Gardener, who gets mistaken as a wealthy ex-business man. And through an extraordinary set of miscommunications, ends up becoming the most influential person in America.

When we first meet Chance, we see that from the very second he wakes up he watches television. Chance is a simple man, who has lived the entirety of his life inside the house and grounds of a wealthy gentleman, referred to only as ‘the old man ‘. His only past-times seem to be gardening and watching television (his only real source of the world outside the wall that encloses the garden).

When the old man suddenly dies, Chance is forced to leave the house for the first time in his life. As Chance steps outside, a disco rendition of Also Sprach Zarathustra (the piece of music from the start of 2001: A Space Odyssey) begins to play. Essentially this is Chance’s mission into the universe and we will go on this ‘out-of-space’ odyssey with him.

He wanders the streets alone, encountering a gang of local youths along the way. Chance responds to having a knife pulled out on him by using his remote control as if trying to change over the channel. Distracted by a shop display, he is hit by a limousine carrying Eve Rand (Shirley MacLaine). Eve is the wife of a prominent, politically influential financier, Benjamin Rand (Melvyn Douglas).

“Peter Sellers gives his career-best performance as Chance the Gardener.”

Eve believes that Chance is a member of the wealthy upper class, and to avoid legal troubles over the collision, she invites him home to tend to his minor injuries. This is the first case of miscommunication, as Eve mishears Chance’s name as Chauncey Gardiner. The thing is, that Chance doesn’t correct her and simply goes along with this change of name. It helps that his clothing and appearance reinforces Eve’s narrative, that he is part of the same social class.

Chance models his behaviour from what he’s seen on television. Even mimicking the same style handshake he’s seen the President do. When he arrives at the Rand household, his presumed identity overshadows anything he might say or do. The people around him interpret his words to suit their understanding

Chance makes a positive impression on Benjamin Rand, as well as the visiting President (Jack Warden). Chance’s behaviour puts people at ease, which allows them to relax around him. He often repeats his companion’s statements during a conversation which creates the impression of agreement. He maintains eye contact with his companion, again reinforcing this idea of empathy and creating a sense of ease. He often remarks, “I understand,” and “I know what you’re saying” in a calm tone, which other people interpret as Chance having a strong sense of confidence.

His brief and simplistic answers are interpreted as having a deeper and more philosophical meaning to them, when he simply commenting on gardening. Even when he confesses that he can’t read, people interpret this as being a comment on the busy, hectic lifestyle that enslaves us all, denying us the simple pleasures of reading. His confession of being unable to read newspapers and only watching TV is conveyed as being his mistrust of print journalism. Like a game of Chinese whispers, we get further and further away from the truth.

“Chance models his behaviour from what he’s seen on television.”

After a meeting with the President, who ends up quoting him on live TV, Chance ends up becoming a well-known figure. Both the press and the secret service takes an interest in finding out his true identity, but there appears to be nothing on him. Faith in the President begins to waver. Especially when people interpret Chance’s comments as being an attack on the president’s ability to do the job required.

The film ends with a bunch of old, white men bickering between them to decide who will become the next leader of the free world. A chilling reminder that true power is only in the hands of a very exclusive and elite minority.

Of course, the film’s most iconic shot of Chance walking on water, is the film’s actual ending. Like everything that surrounds Chance, this is open to interpretation. Is Chance the second coming? Perhaps, he has managed to unburden his mind of all trivia to obtain true peace and consciousness? There may be no real explanation for Chance’s ability to walk on water, but it doesn’t matter.

Our sense of perception on how the world operates, is based on how we interpret objects and people. And how we associate meaning to certain events in an attempt to process them. We encounter the strange and unusual everyday, but in order to function, we have to allocate some sense of meaning to them. Being There is simply reminding us of how fragile our state of being actually is.

“Being There is simply reminding us of how fragile our state of being actually is.”

The film’s last words are “Life is a state of mind.” But what does this statement mean exactly? It’s such a vague sentence, that we can view it in a range of different ways to suit our own narrative. This is what makes Being There such an outstanding film, because the viewer is allowed to come to their own conclusions and treated with an element of respect that is rarely seen today.

At the end of the day, we are left questioning whether we are actually being there in the moment, or whether our minds are too preoccupied with the screen. It’s time we all ventured outside the walls of our garden, and venture on our own odysseys. It’s time we stop being just there and start being.