Imagine peeling back the layers of a Hollywood dynasty, only to discover that even the most iconic marriages and careers are riddled with real-life struggles and imperfections—it's a revelation that hits close to home. But here's where it gets controversial: is this documentary truly honoring the stars, or is it more about the director's personal baggage? Dive in with me as we explore Ben Stiller's heartfelt yet uneven film, 'Stiller & Meara: Nothing Is Lost,' and you'll see why it sparks such passionate debates.
This Apple TV+ supported project blends biography, autobiography, and what feels like a family therapy session, premiering at the New York Film Festival before its streaming debut later this month. As Ben Stiller's most intimate directorial effort, it echoes the recent HBO doc 'My Mom Jayne,' where Mariska Hargitay delves into her mother's public persona and private life to fill in the blanks of her own identity—much like how Stiller uses his parents' legacy to reflect on his own path.
'Stiller & Meara: Nothing Is Lost'
The Bottom Line: Intimate and moving.
Venue: New York Film Festival (Spotlight)
Airdate: Friday, Oct. 24 (Apple TV+)
Director: Ben Stiller
Runtime: 1 hour 38 minutes
In this film, Stiller examines the public personas and private mementos of his well-known parents, Jerry Stiller and Anne Meara, while grappling with the divide between what's shown to the world and what's kept hidden. He also confronts his own challenges in emulating their success as an artist, partner, and parent. For newcomers to this story, think of it as exploring how the polished images we see on screen often mask the messy realities behind them—it's like comparing a glossy magazine cover to the unedited photos underneath.
Fans of Jerry and Anne might argue that the documentary should dedicate more time to their lives and less to Ben's inner turmoil, and that's a fair point that fuels ongoing discussions. Yet, I find a poignant mix of sorrow and wit in Stiller's style, reminiscent of his work with directors like Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach, who often infuse humor into emotional depths.
Stiller openly acknowledges the self-centered nature of creating a film that's supposed to spotlight someone else's story. The idea sparked in 2020, right after his father's death, which followed his mother's passing five years prior. 'I felt completely off-kilter, miserable, and detached—from my family, my kids—and just a bit adrift,' he shares. 'I began reflecting on my parents, the stress and conflicts I witnessed as a child, the pressures of their joint work, and how they persevered through it all.'
The title captures both the despair Stiller felt during the pandemic—when he also reconciled with his wife, actress Christine Taylor, after a period of separation—and his dad's habit of hoarding items. For those unfamiliar, hoarding here means collecting everything from old letters to tapes, symbolizing a refusal to let go of memories.
The documentary kicks off with Ben, his sister Amy, and their parents' former assistant, Dawn Eaton, sorting through the family's long-held apartment. It's packed with boxes of yellowed newspaper articles, letters, and decades of recorded cassettes. Jerry's collecting stemmed from his pride in his family, his affection for Anne, and how elements of their real relationship seeped into their comedy sketches. Ben tells Amy that the film, captured by cinematographer Jessica Lee Gagné (known for 'Escape at Dannemora' and 'Severance'), revolves around clearing out the space, though the actual sale becomes a touching epilogue.
Instead, they reminisce over the remnants of their parents' over-60-year union to trace their lives and professions. This involves revisiting their sketches from talk shows, analyzing their comedic styles, and questioning how much of their on-air candor was genuine versus scripted performance. They pore over photos, screen Super 8 home movies, and even read aloud steamy letters between Jerry and Anne, sparking waves of shock and admiration at their enduring passion. And this is the part most people miss: these moments humanize icons, showing that even comedy legends had raw, intimate sides.
While the film doesn't dive deep into the era's entertainment landscape—think vaudeville roots evolving into early TV, a style that's largely faded today—it highlights clips from shows like 'The Ed Sullivan Show' and 'The Mike Douglas Show' that showcase Jerry and Anne's dynamic energy. Some include young Amy and Ben, naturally prompting Ben's self-reflection.
Without spilling too many family secrets, Stiller explores the flaws in a union often romanticized publicly, touching on shared dreams, individual ambitions, and where family fit into their priorities. This mirrors his own experiences: marrying a fellow actor (Taylor), learning to value parenting, and acknowledging past errors. To clarify for beginners, it's like realizing that no relationship is perfect, even if it looks idyllic from afar—much like how social media filters hide real-life imperfections.
Ben's journey includes input from Taylor, their daughter Ella (23), and son Quin (20), each reacting differently on camera. Taylor shares stories about Jerry and Anne but stays reserved about their own marital hiccups. Quin, at 20, understands the intent but notes feeling overlooked during his childhood. Ella, playfully, jokes about being cut from 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,' turning a sore spot into shared laughter—though it wasn't always funny for her.
Amy navigates similar territory, recalling her waitressing days while Ben's fame grew, now a source of amusement, though Ben seems unsure how to respond. This vulnerability prevents the film from feeling overly self-indulgent. If Stiller had approached it with smug certainty, it might have fizzled out. Instead, it reminds us that despite his parents' fame and long marriage, embracing their efforts, flaws, and inconsistencies ensures nothing valuable is forgotten.
But here's the controversy that really gets people talking: Does this documentary honor Jerry and Anne's legacy, or does it overshadow them with Ben's personal story? Some argue it's a beautiful tribute, while others see it as therapy disguised as biography. What do you think—should family documentaries prioritize the subjects or the filmmaker's growth? And is it fair to air imperfections in such a public way? Share your opinions in the comments; I'd love to hear if you agree, disagree, or have your own take on Hollywood legacies!
