Stranger Than Fiction

The history of cinema is littered with comedic performers desperate to make the transition to the ranks of Serious Actor. Just look at Jim Carrey -- as massive a superstar as he is, his continued attempts to snag an Oscar ('The Truman Show,' 'Man on the Moon,' etc.) come off more as desperate than sincere. But every once in a while, there comes along a Will Ferrell, an actor who almost seems as if he fell into the funny business by accident. He's an inspired comedian, of course, but there has always been an underlying pathos, a real humanity to him that transcends mere yuks. Maybe it is the way he lifts one eye like a puppy dog, or how his mouth always seems on the verge of an uncontrollable smirk, that hints at something deeper and darker lurking underneath.

In 'Stranger Than Fiction,' Ferrell finds a vehicle that brings his dramatic skills to the fore. He stars as Harold Crick, lowly IRS agent, and obsessive-compulsive hypochondriac. To say his life up until this point has been "ordered" would be an understatement. But today, he is about to find his entire world (including his own sanity) in dire question. It seems that famous author Karen Effiel is writing her latest novel about an isolated man, who just happens to be named... Harold Crick. Soon he begins to hear Karen's voice as she narrates her new book, detailing everything that Harold is thinking and feeling. Branded a schizophrenic by his therapist (Linda Hunt), Harold turns to a literary professor (Dustin Hoffman), who suggests not to deny the voices -- but to use them to discover what his life story is really about. This epiphany will lead Harold into a relationship with a most unusual bakery owner, Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal), and a host of other life-altering events. Unfortunately for Harold, Karen Effiel already has the ending to her novel in mind -- she's planning to kill him off.

'Stranger Than Fiction' has been compared to the literary works of Charlie Kaufman ('Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,' 'Being John Malkovich'), and it's easy to see why. Zach Helm's script, like all of Kaufman's efforts, combines an utterly surreal concept, quirky characters, existentialist drama, and loopy jumps in space, time and sometimes logic. But Helm is no mere impersonator. Kaufman, like Stanley Kubrick and David Lynch before him, was certainly not the first to use surrealism in mainstream cinema. And while he may have a similar form, Helm has a entirely different sensibility, bringing an underlying sweetness to 'Stranger Than Fiction.' The story mines gentle comedy out of the inherent nihilism of the human condition (none of us are getting out of here alive, after all) and does it with warmth and compassion rather than arch post-modernism and self-conscious irony.

Perhaps the film failed to ignite the box office because audiences were expecting a far more typical, raucous Ferrell comedy, a la 'Talladega Nights.' 'Stranger Than Fiction' is certainly no light-hearted farce. The crises and questions that arise for Harold are challenging, not only for him (admittedly, he is a rather dim bulb) but for us. They are also timely. Never before have our lives been so regimented, fractured and over-analyzed. Crick is the Everyman for the new millennium, and while certainly a distortion magnified to a high degree, I found his growing panic at the realization that his life is already laid out for him, with minimal contribution on his own behalf, exceptionally poignant.

Happily (and somewhat uniquely) film's conclusion doesn't cheat its core themes. I won't spoil it by saying anymore, as the film's effectiveness entirely rests upon our surprise. Perhaps that is what is so exciting about a film like 'Stranger Than Fiction' -- that frisson between our bewilderment at where this story could possibly go, and our complete faith that writer Helm and director Marc Forster ('Finding Neverland,' 'Monster's Ball') know exactly where they are taking us every step of the way. In this day and age of predictable plots and phoned-in TV dramedy, 'Fiction' at least dares to be an original.

All of the performances in the film are standouts. Emma Thompson and Dustin Hoffman are givens, although they have been given the most thankless task in the script, which is to basically serve as narrators for an inner world that Harold can't verbalize. And though Queen Latifah shines in a surprisingly limited role, it is Maggie Gyllenhaal who shines most luminous. I admire her complete lack of condescension towards a character who, on the surface, is utterly ordinary. Somehow Gyllenhaal finds a depth and beauty in her simplicity, so much so that her attraction to Ferrell defies any preconceptions regarding age. This is an attraction of the heart, mind and spirit, not just the body.

And Ferrell, of course, has to carry the entire picture on his wide shoulders, and never falters. Rare have I seen a performance that conveys so much inner trauma with such little physical movement. His eyes may be a character unto themselves -- expressive and emotive, they tell us all we need to know in an instant. It is the kind of "acting" that is not acting at all, but simply being. As Hoffman praises in one of this disc's featurettes, even he was caught off-guard by how in-the-moment Ferrell was, and it's obvious on-screen. He is 'Fiction's true heart, and by taking such a risk and succeeding so admirably here, he has become just about the only comedic actor I'd pay to see in a drama without hesitation.