John Cusack

For his first film feature, maverick music video director Spike Jonze concocts a fascinating, hilarious character study focused on the question of who pulls the strings of our fixation on celebrity. Fittingly, it's a puppeteer, Craig Schwartz (an unrecognizable John Cusack), that sets the story into motion. Without any future ahead for the elaborate, erotic marionette dramas he stages on city streets, he takes a job as a file clerk on the notorious 7-½ floor, a contorted New York office where the low ceilings force everyone to walk around like senior citizens (writing about the gag hardly does it justice, as the visuals it provides command repeated belly laughs). As cramped as his work environment is, Craig's just happy to get away from his home where his drab wife, Lotte (an even more unrecognizable Cameron Diaz), a pet store employee, hangs out with her furry menagerie. And while the ceilings are low, Craig looks forward to squatting just to flirt with Maxine (Catherine Keener), an independent vixen who won't give this washed-up puppetman the time of day.

While at work, Craig stumbles upon a small closet that leads into some muddy tunnel. Stepping into it, he's suddenly sucked into the head of John Malkovich. After fifteen minutes (perfect Warhol time) of seeing through the actor's eyes, he is suddenly spit out on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike. Having the type of experience that would have turned Alice In Wonderland into a raving lunantic, Craig hardly panics. Instead, he's quick to tell Lotte about his discovery (having gone through this portal amusement ride, he's already sure that it will spit everyone near the same spot on the Turnpike every time). She immediately goes through herself and is hooked. Maxine, rather than travel through herself, talks Craig into charging desperate souls admission into the head of JM, making them CEOs of the most novel business in town.

Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener

Jonze's (and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's) scenario already seems ridiculously perplexing, sprinkled with warped questions of changing identity. But they really throw a monkey wrench into the works when they send Maxine on a date with Malkovich (the actor's all too happy to take an anonymous woman to dinner). While they dine, Lotte travels through the portal and Maxine falls in love with the idea of Lotte looking at her. The passion between the two women escalates further when Maxine talks her way onto Malkovich's lap. Obviously, Malkovich is a very sharp guy (he didn't get that Oscar nod for nothing) and soon he's onto the fact that space in his head is being rented out for $200 a shot. When he threatens to blow, Craig puts his puppeteer skills to work and finds a way to hang on inside Malkovich, which he soon finds might be the quickest way into Maxine's pants. Explaining the further hilarity that ensues would only cheat you out of one of the more surreal, hilarious film journeys in memory.

One would expect Jonze, who made himself a legend with hellzapoppin commericals and videos playing off of feverish pop culture influence, to make his first film nonstop flash. But he lays out his debut with pale lighting, dreary set designs and, with the exception of a few sequences (a shocking tour of the actor's subconscious, a monkey flashing back on his darkest days in the jungle), limited visual stunts. The plan works. For a film with the most preposterous plot of the year, it has a remarkable matter-of-factness about it.

Jonze's actors play along brilliantly. No one shakes their head in disbelief that this madness could occur, including the actor who is having his id raped on a nightly basis. Instead they play with the ever-expanding conundrums, truly bizarre love triangles, and the very notion of identity. As for Malkovich, one can't think of a more daring turn. It's one thing for David Duchovny to make fun of himself on a two minute "Larry Sanders Show" appearance. It's another for Malkovich to look at himself under the microscope through such warped lenses. For an actor who has never catered to the dabbling nonsensicals of the "Entertainment Tonight" staff, who has lived far out of the public eye, he shows that he is willing to go overboard when the material is right. Before this film, Malkovich's head would hardly seem like the most exciting place to visit. After displaying his gift for self-scathing comedy, watch rental space in his noggin to go quick.