Stranger Than Fiction

3.5/4 stars

Every time one of these comes out, one of these movies where an SNL clown has been improbably cast as an actor and more or less reveals themself to be one, there's a temptation to view the whole movie through the lens of that disconnection. Adam Sandler has done a few of these lately, and while he's certainly shown himself capable of serious acting, those films have often been somewhat overpraised due only to the element of surprise. So, I'm going to address the Will Ferrell issue first merely in the interest of getting it out of the way, not because it is or should be the central influence on one's appreciation of Stranger Than Fiction.

In some sense what Will Ferrell normally does is much more difficult than what he does here. Removing the limitations of sense and believeability and managing to be hysterically funny within a framework where the audience expects the outrageous is no easy task, many comedic performers burn out quickly (Ferrell sometimes does too). In Stranger Than Fiction, the reinstatement of those limitations does much of the work. Ferrell's persona allows him to be noticed merely by not attempting to be noticed. He's playing the straight man for once, with Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal as his foils. This is of course, the same effect as described above in action. Still, Ferrell immerses himself a new character and gives a good performance.

This is the first time I've seen Maggie Gyllenhaal as the heroine of a romantic comedy (one of the genres into which this film falls), which is a shame. I'm afraid she might be the type of actress who is too talented to want to take such roles often, which is too bad, because that's the reason romantic comedies are so often left with lesser actresses. She's cute, charming, lively and engaging, a personality that can pull the Ferrell character from his passivity. Emma Thompson is also brilliant, in an acerbically depressive part that turns out to be in some ways the heart of the film. She doubles as a narrator, which is less of a test, but no less of a delight.

I know that the film's unique plot may not be so unique, but it makes you think anyway, it raises questions and that makes it worthwhile. For instance, if Thompson's author character created Ferrell's Harold Crick, and the Gyllenhaal character is perfect for him, does that mean she necessarily created her as well? Can a fictional character be the perfect partner for a living person? I especially like the ponderance of the moral implications of killing a character off. I sometimes think that the artists of the 20th century have transformed the memento mori from a moral lesson to a cliched artistic crutch, a way to achieve easy poignancy and the appearance of meaning. As the movie says, isn't someone like Harold Crick (and indeed, many other ill fated heroes) worth keeping around?

The visuals in this film are also well worth mention. There's the obviously cool effect of the numbers, charts and lines that follow Ferrell's character around, aiding the narration. There's also the near perfect blandness of his surroundings, and his personal appearance that invokes a Magritte painting (with clear intention). Many of the other characters seem to live in different movies. Thompson's reminded me of Paul Haggis's film Crash, with its combination of clinical appearance and lethal dangers. Gyllenhaal's bakery is somewhat fairytale-like, while the Dustin Hoffman's character's office invokes a more refined, academic atmosphere (and I'm sure smells of rich mahogany).

There's a lot of great stuff in this movie, and while it's still really just entertainment (its metafictional components raise questions, but offer no true artistic thesis), it's also well crafted and thought provoking drama.