Here we have the final film of a legendary actor/comedian, Peter Sellers. Well, actually his final final film was a Fu Manchu thing, but I think most would prefer to think of this one as his denouement. Being There is a very well-made film that touched upon social concepts that were relevant at the time (and in some ways, still relevant today). Granted, its timeliness might make it a bit dated to current eyes, but the lovely story of a simple man, I think, will still hit on a resonant level. I’ll give a basic run-down of the story.
We follow Chance, a middle-aged yet simple (and possibly autistic) man, who lives in Washington D.C. with an old rich man. Chance’s life mostly consists of watching TV and tending to the garden, which he loves doing. He’s never been beyond the house’s property, apparently forbidden to go out by the old man. Sadly (or not so sadly), the old man passes away, though Chance either doesn’t register this or isn’t particularly saddened by the news. The caretaker, Louise, has to leave since she doesn’t have a boss anymore, so Chance is left alone in the house for a while. Ultimately, not for too long, though, as the attorneys come to take ownership of the estate. They seem puzzled by Chance’s presence, as there’s never been any record of him living there before. When they ask him if he’s going to claim ownership himself, Chance doesn’t seem to understand this and says no, to which they order him to leave the premises by the next day. He grabs a suitcase (which may or may not have anything in it at all) and wanders around the city, encountering homeless folks and young street gangs. He happens upon one of those TV displays that projects the viewer on the screen. He’s enamored with it and backs up to get a better view, only to be rear-ended by a parking car. The car’s passenger, Eve Rand, wife of rich businessman Ben Rand, gets out and apologizes to Chance. When she asks for his name, he addresses himself as “Chance, the gardener,” which she mistakes as “Chauncey Gardiner.” She and the driver offer to take him to the hospital, which he agrees to, though this changes on the drive to taking him to their home instead. At their mansion, Chance meets Ben himself, who’s far along in the years and rather debilitated, but still bright and friendly. He takes a liking to Chance, who he seems to think is some sort of businessman himself, and an incredibly insightful one at that. This is mostly due to a misunderstanding of who Chance is and where he’s coming from, such as when he brings up gardening in a discussion about business or politics, Ben seems to think he’s speaking metaphorically (“allowing growth,” “weathering the seasons,” etc.). This misinterpretation even extends to the current president, who Ben is an advisor to, and who meets Chance when he visits Ben’s home. The president takes some of Chance’s words to heart and even quotes him openly during a speech, which, of course, turns the whole country’s eye onto Chance and makes him a highly publicized figure. He basically becomes an honorary politician and overnight celebrity, doing interviews and schmoozing with high-ranking folks, including foreign diplomats. However, with his rise to prominence comes more scrutiny, as the president and his top men launch a search into Chance’s background to figure out exactly who he is, Rand’s doctor is beginning to have doubts that Chance is who people proclaim him to be, and the two attorneys also become suspicious of him after seeing him being so tied in with the political sphere. In addition to all of this, Eve starts becoming enamored with Chance and Ben seems to recognize this. How does everything turn out for Chance? I’ll leave that up for you to see.
Peter Sellers does a very good job in this film. He plays Chance with a certain delicateness that really emphasizes the character’s appeal and demeanor, which is wonderful to see from someone who was mostly known for more played-up roles (not to say there wasn’t subtlety in Clouseau’s performance, for example, but it was usually more for the sake of the joke than anything else). Now, of course, I am aware that there is some contention that comes when any neurotypical actor plays a role that is, or is implied to be, neurodivergent, many saying that it will always result in caricature. I understand this concern, and if this hurts the film for you, then I can’t change your opinion, but I felt that Sellers did very well in his role and never made the character to be the butt of the joke in a way that would be truly disparaging (again, from my perspective). I’ll admit, when this film started, I wasn’t exactly sure what sort of story it was going to be. The neglected and uncertain state that Chance’s life was in at the beginning made me think that it was going to be a quiet indie drama of some sort, so when the real plot kicked off, I was surprised that it mostly ended up being a charming social satire as well. This does make sense coming from director Hal Ashby, who had previously made a dark comedy/indie drama hybrid with Harold and Maude, which I quite enjoyed. He does a great job here, giving the film a very touching center to it that carries through, even with all the sillier and more satirical elements. In a way, you could almost see this film as a predecessor to something like Forrest Gump. Both are stories about neurodivergent guys who wind up becoming big, successful, and influential due to circumstances that they happen to stumble into. However, Being There is much more focused on capturing a moment in time (that being the late 70’s) as opposed to the more “generation” capturing of Forrest Gump. Plus, there is often an argument I hear in critique of Gump, that being that the film reinforces the idea that “if you do everything we tell you to do, you’ll be successful,” which is something that America likes to purport is true, but is often not the case for many of its citizens. Being There, on the other hand, is more so mocking the higher-ups and media in America for misunderstanding Chance’s statements and assuming that he’s savvier and more insightful than he actually is. He’s really just a simple guy who likes gardening, but of course, to the upper echelon, that could never be the case with one who’s dressed as well as he is and knows the people that he does. There’s even a scene directly calling this out, where Louise, now living in an apartment, sees Chance being interviewed on TV and comments on how everyone is too stupid to see how “dumb” he really is. She goes a step further, saying something along the lines of “that’s America for you. If you’re white and know people, you can get anything you want.” A rather topical comment for both then and now, as sad as that is to say. While the film certainly has its satire covered, the previously mentioned “touching center” is still alive and well throughout. Ben Rand might misunderstand Chance’s nature, like most everyone else does, but he still treats him as a person and a friend. He often confides in Chance about his current situation, being as debilitated and far along in years as he is, and even wants Chance to take care of the estate (among other things) after his passing. It’s interesting to note that, when something happens to Ben later in the film, Chance actually cries for him, something that he didn’t even do for the old man who raised him when he passed on. Louise even notes this, being stuck between taken aback at his indifference and also having expected it. The thing is, though, that “raised him” doesn’t seem to be something you could give to the old man, truthfully. Looking over the earlier scenes in the film, it comes across like he mostly just had Chance around in order to simulate the idea of having a kid, without really taking on the responsibility of raising one. He forbade Chance to go beyond the house and placated him with television, only really letting him out to tend in the garden. He never developed any true human connection with Chance. Ben, on the other hand, actually connected with him and valued him as a person and was one of the few people to truly do that, along with Eve. It’s a very poignant moment, and really hit me when I got to it. I will admit that I don’t think I was fully appreciating the film until I hit that point. I didn’t think it was bad, rather I thought it was generally rather well done, but I don’t think I was fully connecting with it overall. Part of this might be that the film’s commentary and framing, while still somewhat applicable today, did feel a bit “simplistic” from a modern perspective. While it tells its story and satire well, it can feel like there’s not all that much to it nowadays. Such is the danger of timeliness, really. I might need to watch this film to truly appreciate it, and I would encourage that in others who feel the same as me after seeing it. The final scene is also bound to spark the minds of film interpreters everywhere, though I can’t get into it for obvious reasons. I will say that I was impressed by its subtlety, as a scene like it done in another movie might have made it a bit more maudlin.
Overall, Being There is a very nice film that tells a good story about a charming individual and pokes fun at American understanding. Had this been Sellers last film, I think it would have been a good note to go out on. In fact, you could sort of see this film as one of the finales for the New Hollywood era, as it hit right before the transition to the 80s where everything changed again. Anyway, whatever sort of finale you want to see it as, I would still recommend you give it a watch, it just might charm a jaded heart. So, remember to be there for Being There.