"Frank": The Brilliant Film We've All Overlooked

Now Available on DVD and Blu-Ray

I was drawn to Frank by its seemingly quirk-driven premise of a main character who never removes a giant papier-mâché head placed over his real head.  It seemed gimmicky, but the reviews from the film’s theatrical run were quite positive, so I thought I’d give the film a shot.  And frankly, this film is much more than I was expecting it to be.  Part comedy and part cultural critique, Frank starts off in pretty mundane waters, only to reveal itself as one of the most profound films of the year.

The film’s ostensible main character is Jon, an aspiring musician who can’t seem to write anything more than a couple of jingly lines at a time.  He stumbles across a strange band with an unpronounceable name: Soronprfbs, full of eclectic characters, the most notable of which is Frank, the film’s aforementioned selling point.  After witnessing the attempted self-drowning by the band’s keyboardist, Jon volunteers his services to the band of misfits, and from there is whisked away to a remote location to help record the band’s first album.  This portion of the film plays like your fairly standard fish-out-of-water comedy, with Jon acting as the straight-man to the Frank-idolizing producer, a violently hateful theremin player, and, of course, the creative visionary himself, Frank.

The film has a very deadpan sense of humor, placing the story's bizarre circumstances on display without any sort of wink or acknowledgement that these are intentional jokes.  And yet, that’s part of the film’s narrative genius.  As the film progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that not everything is as clear cut as the initial premise would suggest.  The comedy becomes less and less prevalent, and eventually the film becomes a full-on message piece about the freak show fame that our society gives to those with mental illness based purely on their extraordinary quirks.

I don’t want to give too many of the film’s later plot points away, but the most important and fantastic part of this film is the narrative gut-punch it delivers in the final third.  Essentially, events transpire that recontextualize everything that came before, and it becomes blatantly clear that we as the audience have been party to the victimization of one of the characters.  See, the film takes a pretty hard stance on how popular culture views mental illness and disability as a fundamental aspect to creative genius, and whereas the first part of the film seems to indulge that ideology, the latter portion makes it gut-wrenchingly clear that this is not the case.  If anything, we as a culture enable harmful pathologies by labeling them as the hallmark of the artistic savant, and this film wants to make sure you recognize how you and everyone else are part of the problem.

It’s hard to say much more without spoiling the surprise, but I would be remiss to not mention that Michael Fassbender is fantastic as the titular Frank, creating a complex and likeable character without being able to use facial expression to convey emotion.  It’s superbly done, and proves that Fassbender is one of the acting greats of our time.  And that greatness is reflective of the film as a whole.  This film is not only an enjoyable one, but also a very important one with its novel message presented through a brilliant narrative twist.  This is one of my favorite films so far this year, so I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a smart and poignant flick that will likely be overlooked come awards season.

Know any other brilliant films that have flown under the radar?  Share your favorites in the comments below.

"Calvary": This Preacher Ain't Preachy

Now Available on DVD and Blu-Ray

According to Christian doctrine, Calvary was the spot on which Christ was crucified.  It’s an appropriate title for this dark Irish drama, which follows a week in the life of a priest only trying to do what is best for his thankless community.  This isn’t a story of Catholic piety triumphing over the den of sin that is society; this is the story of one man who belongs to a religious order that itself is filled with flawed and sinful people, yet is still trying to hold himself up to the ideals that he thinks his god commands of him.  He acknowledges that he isn’t perfect, and the film certainly acknowledges Catholicism’s sins over the centuries, but this is the story of a man simply doing his best, not preaching dogma to an ignorant mass.

I feel it necessary to lay that groundwork for this review, because by acknowledging what could be many people’s first impression of the plot, I hope to communicate that the film is not as preachy as it sounds.  The first shot of the film sets up our premise: an anonymous parishioner tells Father James in a confessional that he was molested by a priest as a young child.  The parishioner goes on to say that the abuser has since died, and so, in order to send the Catholic Church a message, he is going to kill Father James in one week’s time.  We then follow Father James for seven days, as we meet the townspeople he ministers to, easily recognizing their sinful nature and all the while wondering which of them could be the mysterious parishioner.

The film has a very dry and dark sense of humor, very similar to another famous bit of Irish cinema, In Bruges.  (This only makes sense, seeing as the two films’ directors are brothers.)  If you appreciated the humor in that movie, you’ll likely appreciate it here, though humor is much less the focus here compared to the study of Father James’s character.  Brendan Gleeson gives a fantastic performance of a man gradually coming to terms with his own impending death, as well as his doubts about how worthwhile his vocation really is when hardly anyone does much more than mock it.  The whodunit plot isn’t even the primary narrative focus, as one gets the distinct impression that Father James has already figured out the parishioner’s identity, but is more concerned about what to do about that knowledge than anything else.

That said, I found the film’s main problems to be technical in nature.  There is an overabundance of characters in Father James’s small town, and the film tries a little too hard to give enough of them screentime so that we may see their sinful ways and try to deduce which of them is the parishioner.  However, by doing so, the film crams itself full of exceedingly short and inconsequential scenes with little to no transition, creating a disorienting perception of time and space as we’re pulled from one location to another with no indication that any time has passed.  This is especially prevalent in the latter half of the film, and eventually the red herring villagers become little more than white noise.

Nevertheless, I wouldn’t let that dissuade you from enjoying a fantastic character study.  It’s easy to worry that a film about a man of God will be religiously preachy and pushy, but Calvary refreshingly is not.  This is just the story of a troubled man, looking to help in any way he can, and wondering if that help will ever be enough.  It’s ultimately a relatable and very human story, and one that I heartily recommend.

Know of any other films that handle their religious content in such a non-patronizing manner?  Let me know in the comments below.

"Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue Of Ignorance)": Seamless Brilliance

Now In Theaters

Well, folks, award season is officially here.  Critics are beginning to tally up their picks for the best films of the year, and that means it’s time for me to switch gears and actually get out to the theater so that I can see what all the fuss is about.  And I’ve started right out the gate with a big one.  Birdman is a powerhouse of a film.  The direction, the writing, the acting, the editing and cinematography: this is the real deal.  Birdman is a film that unabashedly toys with you, and you will love every second of it because every tiny detail is so fantastically realized.

Michael Keaton plays Riggan Thomson, an aging former movie star most famous for his trilogy of films as the superhero Birdman.  He has adapted a play for Broadway, and is now starring in and directing the production.  When a (possibly) freak accident debilitates Riggan’s co-star, acclaimed actor Mike Shiner (Edward Norton) offers to step in.  However, Mike is an egomaniac who treats the stage as a playground and seems intent on derailing Riggan’s production for the sake of grabbing all the attention himself.  Meanwhile, Riggan’s daughter Sam (Emma Stone) is just out of rehab, and Riggan’s attempts to be close to her are shunned.  This, and a variety of other dark (and often hilarious) circumstances begin to push Riggan to the verge of mental collapse, with his very grip on reality becoming increasingly tenuous.  To say much more would be to spoil much of the film’s charm, but I would like to say that just about every time you think you know what’s going on, you should be prepared to have that expectation subverted right until the very end.

This is often achieved through some phenomenal acting talent on the part of Keaton, Norton, and Stone.  Keaton very gradually lets the stress of producing the show alter him from passably sane to less-than-such; Norton makes what is ostensibly an antagonist into one of the most sympathetic (and in some ways pathetic) characters on screen; and Stone, though not playing an actress in this film, has created layers of depth to her character that slowly peel away the more she speaks.  However, Keaton’s and Norton’s exchanges are perhaps the best realized in the film; since both actors are portraying actors, their scenes capitalize on the nature of their craft, flawlessly shifting between realistic dialogue and performance, blurring the line between them so that it is difficult to tell what the story’s true reality is.

On the technical side, I can almost guarantee that the folks in charge of editing and cinematography are due for their Oscars this year, because I highly doubt that any other film is going to top the grace and precision necessary to pull off this film’s grandest illusion: the uninterrupted cut.  The majority of this film exists as one long, continuous shot, following actors down hallways, playing with mirrors to show two faces at once during conversations, and moving around the actors in a surreal blend of reality and cinematicism.  And it never stops.  If you’re paying attention, you can pick out the moments where the scene likely ended and was resumed at a later time, but it is all done so seamlessly that the illusion is mind-bogglingly impressive.

I could likely go on and on about why I found this film so extraordinary, but this is a review, not an analysis.  If you are looking for a recommendation, Birdman has most certainly earned it.  It seems I chose a hell of a movie to start off awards season with.  Here’s hoping that the other contenders have what it takes to compete.

What award-nominated films would you like to see me tackle in the coming weeks?  Leave your suggestions in the comments below.