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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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Stranger than Fiction: At what price art?
Wednesday 15 November @ 13:37:17 |
 
BY STEVE McPHERSON
I’d like to state upfront that I’m not a professional movie reviewer; mostly I review CDs. In trying to figure out how to put together a film review, I’ve realized just how different an aesthetic experience a film is than a CD. With CDs you can settle in and get comfortable: You can listen to them over and over, just listen to parts, play your favorite songs for your friends and then get a completely different experience when you see a band live.
But a film’s just got that one shot to make a first impression and, as such, expectation weighs very heavily on it. If you’re expecting the usual Will Ferrell—the goofy pseudo-frat-boy charm, the understated but note-perfect physical comedy—you’re not going to find him in “Stranger than Fiction.” If, however, you’ve been battered a bit senseless by the altogether brilliant yet exhausting “Jackass 2” or “Borat,” and you enjoy the kind of thought-provoking yet appealing romantic comedy peddled by “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” or “Amelie,” you’ll probably come away pleased.
Is this the part where I outline the plot? Ferrell plays Harold Crick, who’s just about the most average Average Joe you can find, save for a case of obsessive compulsive disorder that makes him a crack auditor for the IRS, but also leads to a stultifying habit of quantifying everything in his life, from the number of strokes he gives with the toothbrush every day to the number of steps to the bus stop. We’re given the particulars of his life via a voiceover narration by Emma Thompson, who we later learn is author Kay Eiffel. One morning, Crick hears the voice we’re hearing tell him about his imminent death and he embarks on a quest to figure out what’s happening to him. Along the way, we meet literature professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman), who tries to help Crick solve his dilemma, and beguiling and free-spirited baker Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal), for whom Crick falls hard. The heavy end of the pic is largely concerned with the question of the value of art, a question which I’m all too willing to contemplate. I’m a firm believer in the permanency of great works, be they musical, literary or filmic but (so far at least) I’ve never had to weigh the worth of a work of art against someone’s life. Fortunately, such existential questions are tucked into a funny and visually appealing movie, making it exactly the kind of film you can enjoy sheerly for its romantic comedy elements, but which also provides something more than a flimsy boy-meets-girl premise if you wish to get that intellectually involved.
There are a grab bag of little details that make the film worth seeing for a few subsets of people. If you’re a fan of understated, underrated indie rock band Spoon, you should know that Spoon doyen Britt Daniel was largely responsible for the score, and the movie is peppered with instrumental versions of Spoon songs you know and love, plus some new incidental music and a brand new track. Spoon is a band that makes the most out of the bare minimum, making their songs a natural for use as a soundtrack—their clear hooks and tone define the emotional tenor of a scene with just a few notes. For fans of the incredible and sadly missed Fox series “Arrested Development,” Tony Hale (who played Buster Bluth on the show) makes a small but memorable appearance as Crick’s sole friend at work. Lastly, if you’re a geek for this stuff, like I am, you should know that the opening titles are the finest I’ve seen in a film in I can’t remember how long. As Crick goes about his daily routine, charts and figures spring forth around him, the text actually invading the three-dimensional space of the movie, and it’s a great evocation of the character’s analytical way of approaching life. It’s a brilliant little visual touch that resurfaces at key moments throughout the film, and just one more thing that nudges this picture above your run-of-the-mill romantic comedy.
But enough of the minutiae. Ferrell successfully transmutes his usual comedic schtick into a sensitive portrayal of Harold Crick, but it’s not a shock really. His comedic persona has never been over-the-top: his success has come from playing mild-mannered and often pedestrian characters. Jim Carrey had a much greater distance to go for his leap to drama, but I think Ferrell really had his head in the right place for this one. In a New York Times interview about the film, Ferrell said, “I felt like my job on ‘Stranger Than Fiction’ was to play really good defense. Don’t throw the ball out of bounds. If you’re open, take the shot, but otherwise don’t get too fancy.” He does that just, sketching the character with just the right strokes and leaving the rest up to the movie.
Maggie Gyllenhaal does a convincing enough job with the little she’s given as Ana Pascal. She disappears for long stretches of the movie, which seems a little odd, but when she’s in it, she absolutely lights up the screen, and her description of the baked goods she made for college study groups is one of the best examples of food as erotic delight I’ve seen. Much like Ferrell, she plays good defense, making all the right moves and doing a good job at making their unlikely relationship seem valid. Emma Thompson adopts a fantastic set of little flourishes to flesh out her character (including extinguishing her cigarettes with a wad of spit and a napkin—it sounds weird, but it really works in the movie), and she and Dustin Hoffman give fine and nuanced performances. With a concept film like this, it seems like the most important thing for the actors is to find their character, but then only reveal the edges of the personality, something that each actor does perfectly here, save for Queen Latifah, who plays Eiffel’s assistant and is completely and utterly wasted in a pedestrian role.
So now how do you end film reviews? With thumbs? Stars? Not really my style. If you like your romantic comedy with a dash of existential questioning, I’d recommend it. ||
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