The Game is Rigged: Why I Keep Revisiting Adventureland (2009)

***This post contains spoilers aplenty***

I keep coming back to Adventureland (2009) every so often as a comfort watch, and each time I ask myself what keeps drawing me to this overlooked coming-of-age gem. Sure, it takes place in the 80s, and I’ve always had a steadfast fixation on pop culture and media from and about the decade. The soundtrack features over 40 licensed songs to anchor the time period, ranging all the way from repetitive earworm “Rock Me Amadeus” to the quaint and understated “I’m In Love with A Girl” by Big Star. There’s also a stellar ensemble cast that leaves me wanting to see more. 

The movie also features songs from David Bowie, The Cure, New York Dolls, The Replacements, and more.

However, the movie itself was a moderate success at the box office, earning $17.2 million after its $9.8 million budget. With a rating of 76 on Metacritic and 89% on Rotten Tomatoes (as of the date of this post,) it’s – critically-speaking – not bad, either. As far as I know, there’s no huge cult following, but if there is, please direct me to the appropriate channels. 

So what exactly makes me scramble to find where it’s streaming every so often? (I know I really just ought to buy it at this point, but where’s the fun in that?) While the aforementioned setting, soundtrack, and cast certainly do play a role, it has to be something else that keeps me coming back. As I ponder the themes of deceit, rebellion, and disillusionment, I realize there’s a deeper truth to the story that actually puts the comfort into this comfort watch. 

Not to be confused with the jungle-themed area at Disneyland and Magic Kingdom, Adventureland is set against the backdrop of 1987 Pittsburgh, months before the infamous stock market crash known as Black Monday. (Or Tuesday, depending on what part of the world you’re in.) It stars Jesse Eisenberg in another one of his quintessential roles as a neurotic, possibly undiagnosed autistic confused by the unwritten “rules of cool” around him. (I mean, same.) Specifically, he plays James Brennan, a recent Oberlin graduate with lofty plans to spend the summer in Europe before attending Columbia for grad school. But when his father gets demoted at work, James’ dreams of traipsing around the Old World are derailed. The financial strain pushes him to take a job working the game booths at a local amusement park called – you guessed it – Adventureland.

James (Eisenberg) learns that an Art History degree doesn’t necessarily make you forklift-certified and maybe Adventureland is the way to go.
Image via Miramax Films.

During his first day on the job, James learns 3 key rules: One, no freebies. Two, all the games are rigged. And three, no one wins a giant-ass panda. He meets fellow games worker Joel (Martin Starr), a cynical, Russian-literature enthusiast and intellectual who fittingly points out how each game is manipulated against the player. For example, in “Hats Off to Larry”, a group of mannequins wearing bowler hats are situated on a slowly-spinning turnstile as the player throws a ball to knock the hat off. However, Joel sneakily tugs at one of the hats and reveals that at least half of them are glued on. Cool girl Em (Kristen Stewart), another games colleague and James’ main love interest, saves him from getting knifed when a guest is caught cheating to try and win the giant-ass panda. She gives it away to save his life; breaking the giant-ass panda rule, but quickly winning James’ respect and interest.

Joel (Starr) shows James the ways in which the guests are getting ripped off.
Image via Miramax Films.

In addition to Joel and Em, James works alongside a colorful crowd of “carnies”. Among which is his rambunctious childhood friend Frigo (Matt Bush), who never misses an opportunity to knock James down a peg with a swift smack in the nuts. He also meets the infamous Mike Connell, (played by a pre-Deadpool Ryan Reynolds), the park’s womanizing repairman by day/rockstar by night. Legend has it that he once jammed with Lou Reed – a fact that impresses music-loving James immediately.  

You could say the shabby amusement park serves as a metaphor for the world surrounding it. With the Adventureland employees forced to serve a customer base of snot-nosed brats, drunk dirtbags, and Reagan-voting NPCs, it really sets the scene for the harsh realities to come for James and his peers. When I watched the film recently with my partner, even he couldn’t help but point out how cruelly most of the park guests would treat the Adventureland staff. A kid snaps back at Bobby the manager (Bill Hader) after he’s told to throw his trash in the clown mouth bin rather than on the ground. James, at one point, even has to run for his life after an angry customer discovers the truth behind Hat’s Off to Larry. After years of reading poetry for pleasure, planning out his grand tour of Europe, and overall following the rules, James gets a taste of the proverbial “real world” within the gates of a made-up one: a world where the games are rigged, plans change, and not everyone plays by the rules. 

Never let them know that half the hats are glued on.
Image via Miramax Films.

Yet, in spite of all this, he still manages to have a summer worth putting on the big screen, as it were. Throughout his time at Adventureland, James develops a romantic connection with Em based on their mutual love for music and longing to forge their own path. Though as a late bloomer – and virgin, to top it all off – he confides in both Joel and Connell separately. Each of them, in their own unique way, “coaches” James throughout this weird, new dating game he finds himself (finally) playing. Joel, being his closest work friend, dishes out his brand of straightforward and often self-deprecating advice. Meanwhile, the effortlessly cool Connell encourages him to tap into his “biological needs” by pursuing the staff’s resident hottie Lisa P. (Margarita Levieva).         

It’s clear from the get-go that Em and James are the pairing that Joel and we, the audience, are rooting for. However, it is soon revealed (to the viewers, but not yet to James,) that Em has been having a secret tryst with the married Connell, giving him incentive to steer James towards Lisa P. This teeter-totter between staying true to his old self – the one Em and Joel already like and accept – and the version of himself he thinks he should be – the one trying to emulate Connell and pursue Lisa P. – is what makes up James’ inner conflict. 

Em (Stewart), left, and Lisa P. (Levieva), right.
Images via Miramax Films.

To make an hour and 47 minute movie short, James starts spending his nights hanging out with the rest of the staff, especially Em. Though after James admits to Connell that he may be falling in love with Em, the slimeball doesn’t skip a beat in passing it on to her. This causes a rift between the two, motivating James to agree to a date with the beautiful yet vapid Lisa P. Then, James and Em make up for a spell, only to fall out again once James comes clean about his date with Lisa P. James then learns about Em and Connell’s affair and tells Lisa P., who then tells her friend Kelly, and before anyone knows it, word has spread all throughout Adventureland.

Em quits Adventureland and goes back to New York. James’ college buddy suddenly pulls the rug out from underneath him and announces he’s no longer going to live with him in New York. In his words, “Wheels were greased, strings were pulled” to get him into Harvard Business School last-minute, so James won’t be able to afford rent alone in the city. Overall, people are hurt and nothing is fair.

It’s around this point in the story when a poignant little scene occurs with James, Joel, and Frigo. James and Joel are sitting on the side of a hill, drinking beer and feeling sorry for themselves. Frigo darts around them lighting fireworks, being the general menace he’s been throughout the entire movie. James sulks over not having a place to stay while attending Columbia. Sharing his usual, twisted form of miserable solidarity, Joel adds:

“What’s the point of being a writer or an artist anyway? Herman Melville wrote fucking Moby Dick, and he was so poor and forgotten by the time he died that in his obituary, they called him Henry Melville. You know? Like, why bother? They’re just going to forget our fucking names anyway.”

Switching the subject, he mentions Em has gone back to New York. At that moment, James has his “Eureka!” moment:

“Your Herman Melville story – that’s bullshit. … He wrote a 700-page allegorical novel about the whaling industry. I think he was a pretty passionate guy, Joel. I hope they call me Henry when I die, too.”

James: “I hope they call me Henry when I die, too.”
Image via Miramax Films.

Shortly after, James bids adieu to his friends, but not before finally giving Frigo a long-deserved slap in the nuts. (Finally.)

It goes to show that the summer he just spent working a crappy job and falling in love wasn’t all for nothing. After all, as the old adage goes, Life is what happens when you’re trying to figure out what to do with it.     

However, it’s James’ final encounter with Connell that is always so satisfying to watch. Stopping in at Adventureland to collect his final paycheck, James comes across Connell chatting up a group of young women. He brags about his alleged jam session with Lou Reed, erroneously calling the song “Shed a Light on Love” instead of “Satellite of Love”. Connell sees James and strikes up a short conversation. In it, James politely corrects Connell, even though he pretends he knew it was “Satellite” (“like Skylab”) all along.  

Then, James shoots him a knowing look. It’s this subtle, almost indescribable look on James’ face that somehow manages to convey the fact that he now sees right through Connell’s vain, duplicitous, self-serving bullshit. (Perhaps a testament to Jesse Eisenberg’s acting chops, which I guess we unfairly tend to chalk up to him playing similar roles in every movie. But I digress.)  

I can almost hear the crickets inside Connell’s (Reynolds) head.
Image via Miramax Films.

I love this scene so fucking much. Is it the most groundbreaking “mic drop” moments in cinema history? Maybe not. Is it the Moby Dick of “having changed” scenes that should be studied and dissected by generations of film bros on shitty first dates for generations to come? I mean, one can hope. But it’s realistic and relatable – much like James’ journey overall. 

The main takeaway I get from Adventureland – and perhaps the reminder I keep looking for with every rewatch – is this:

You can play, lose, and swear to never try and win another giant-ass panda ever again. You can lie about winning the giant-ass panda, and maybe get laid as a result. You can even take the giant-ass panda by knifepoint, and get exactly what you want.  

Or you could stop being so obsessed with the giant-ass panda and instead pursue what you’re truly passionate about, with the people who truly love and care about you.   

Perhaps this whole observation is obvious to most viewers, and maybe I’ll just walk away from this essay with only the cathartic experience of having typed my thoughts out into the Internet.

But I still enjoyed playing. 

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