Review: Stranger Than Fiction
Will Ferrell stars as ordinary fellow named Harold
Crick, who works for the IRS, and also happens to have an inner monologue running
through his head. Literally. In more than one sense of the term. Whilst Dustin Hoffman,
as a literature professor tries to work out whether Harold’s story is a comedy
or a tragedy (despite not believing a word of what Harold is telling him),
Ferrell is getting frustrated with his every thought and action being described
or commented upon. This inner monologue, voiced by Emma Thompson, is actually
the troubled author of Harold’s life story, and unfortunately, Thompson has
decided that in order for this story to work, poor Harold must die. Needless to
say, Harold isn’t very happy about all this, especially since he has just
struck up a tentative relationship with tattooed bakery shop owner Maggie Gyllenhaal,
who is initially severely unimpressed at being audited by Harold on their first
meeting (she’s a bit of an anarchist and possibly a little bit of a sadist). Queen
Latifah is wasted as Thompson’s assistant, Linda Hunt plays a shrink who wants
to medicate poor Harold ASAP.
2006 Marc Forster (the overrated and thematically
problematic “Monster’s Ball”) oddity
seems like Charlie Kaufman territory (it’s not a Kaufman piece), but if this
isn’t quite the equal of “Being John
Malkovich” or “Eternal Sunshine of
the Spotless Mind”, it’s not too far behind. It appears to like its
characters a lot more than say “Malkovich”
or the overrated “Adaptation”, the
latter of which I believe betrayed its characters for the sake of being quirky
and self-reflexive.
Ferrell is excellent (both in the comedic and dramatic
areas), Gyllenhaal (entirely radiant) and Hoffman are also terrific, and the
film is both funny, sad, and very clever. Should definitely become a cult
classic, alongside “Malkovich” and “Eternal Sunshine”. Scripted by Zach
Helm (“Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium”),
it also has a little Douglas Adams to it, especially in regards to Harold’s
inner monologue/author and some of the accompanying visuals, in amongst the
Kaufman-esque weirdness.
Rating: B+
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