Stranger Than Fiction

I've been cursing Will Ferrell for a while now. I've found his comedy stylings to be much broader, yet more limited, than many of his SNL alums. Amusing in supporting roles, his whiny everyman shtick grows tiring fast in lead roles. And while it's true that great comedians make greater tragedians, I've never thought him that great.

So it was with low expectations that we popped Stranger Than Fiction into the dvd player Sunday night. We had planned on seeing it in the theater last fall, but like so many of our grand ideas about going out in public, we never did get around to it. Plus, while it had looked like a sure-fire winner in previews, by the time it opened, the reviews were a bit mixed. Renter.

But after four days - approximately 40 hours - of basketball it was time for something different.

I'm happy to say it was a very pleasant surprise. Ferrell was a revelation. This was a role custom-tailored to his strengths, in a film confidently directed by Monster's Ball's Marc Forster. What Forster brought to the table was a sure hand, a bit of whimsy, and the almost magical ability to rein in Ferrell's excesses. No whining, no overacting. Ferrell perfectly captured the ennui, pathos, and hope of Harold Crick, even as his life descended into absurdity.

The conceit of the film should be familiar to anyone who recalls the ads from last year: Harold's life is being narrated by a woman "...accurately; and with a better vocabulary." The woman - Emma Thompson's Karen Eiffel - is a writer of some renown who has not published a book in ten years. Karen's writer's block stems from an inability to find a way to kill her hero - Harold Crick.

Fundamentally, the film is about lost souls trying to connect. Karen is a chain smoking ascetic, living in a sterile, empty apartment. Harold's apartment looks more like a motel and his life's routines are as rigid as his job as an IRS auditor. Both find companionship and friendship in others: Karen with an assistant (Queen Latifah) thrust upon her by her publisher; and Harold with an earthy, lusty Maggie Gyllenhaal and sweet, nerdy coworker Dave (Arrested Development's Tony Hale).

Despite the compassion and depth of the piece, there is quite a bit of humor to be found: Karen's narrator speaking with the detached irony of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide; Harold's propensity to count everything depicted through clever animations; Harold's serene acceptance of his odd lot in life; and a sentient watch. Add in the odd comic touches, like the Sonic Guys (T.J. Jagodowski and Peter Grosz, Chicago improv pros) appearing as math-quizzing coworkers¹, and Dustin Hoffman's off-putting performance as a literature professor, too accepting of Harold's tale, and this film succeeds at being quirky, charming, and heart-breaking.

The film is not perfect, of course. But for a pleasant, moving two hours, I'd still highly recommend it.

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¹ Remember. We'd just gotten through 40 hours of NCAA basketball. Do you have any idea how often we saw those annoying Sonic ads?!?