Post by Capo on May 3, 2008 2:48:52 GMT
Happy-Go-Lucky
Mike Leigh 2007 | UK
A north-London primary school teacher lives her life with enduring cheerfulness.
Leigh's latest film ends before any real character dilemma has begun; in fact, the credits roll just as things are about to get interesting in central character Poppy's life. For an independent woman who's lived with her flatmate for ten years, for instance, there'd be all sorts of new challenges and tests of loyalty for her to deal with, having to suddenly juggle between her established routine and friends, and the new man in her life. But the title is perhaps telling: Leigh's not interested in this - and, to be honest, that's fair enough, because if he was, the resulting story might have been a lot more clichéd than it is - and instead concentrates on Poppy's inexplicable ability to go from one scene to the next with the same cheerful manner.
The early scenes grate: exposition by means of Poppy talking to herself feel contrived ("Didn't even get a chance to say goodbye", she remarks when her bicycle is stolen), but it's credit to Sally Hawkins for winning us over with a remarkably tuned performance. The support surrounding her is good, too: Eddie Marsan as an angrily conservative driving instructor, Alexis Zegerman as a loyal flatmate, Karina Fernandez as an enthusiastic and authority-driven Flamenco teacher. There's a fine line whether or not these supporting characters are caricatures, but there's a sense that, if we spent enough time with them, we'd find more worth than the surface suggests (as is the case with Poppy herself).
This is (apparently) a departure for Leigh into less socially bleak territory, but it feels at its most contrived when forcing social comment through: the plight of children's safety crops up in a casual afternoon chat in the pub, while Marsan's driving instructor is a venomous born-again who sees immigrants and ill-taught youths as society's biggest problem. This comes across, for the most part, as shorthand character-portrait, and Leigh is painting in broad strokes; the film's most alarming example of social commentary slash convenient plot device, though, is how Poppy meets her social worker boyfriend. Concerned about a violent upstart in her class, she is present with the boy when the social worker visits - the ease with which the boy's troubles are pinpointed feels in turn like an easy cop-out on Leigh's part: and, as it turns out, the boy is never mentioned again - his problem was there only to bring Poppy a date.
This said date is well-written and superbly performed: effectively clumsy in its presentation of superficial chit-chat, and cringe-worthy to watch in an endearingly humane sort of way - it's one of the funnier moments in the film, and is, at least, a lot more fitting than the befuddling scene earlier in the film in which Poppy approaches a mumbling, incoherent, homeless tramp.
Mike Leigh 2007 | UK
A north-London primary school teacher lives her life with enduring cheerfulness.
Leigh's latest film ends before any real character dilemma has begun; in fact, the credits roll just as things are about to get interesting in central character Poppy's life. For an independent woman who's lived with her flatmate for ten years, for instance, there'd be all sorts of new challenges and tests of loyalty for her to deal with, having to suddenly juggle between her established routine and friends, and the new man in her life. But the title is perhaps telling: Leigh's not interested in this - and, to be honest, that's fair enough, because if he was, the resulting story might have been a lot more clichéd than it is - and instead concentrates on Poppy's inexplicable ability to go from one scene to the next with the same cheerful manner.
The early scenes grate: exposition by means of Poppy talking to herself feel contrived ("Didn't even get a chance to say goodbye", she remarks when her bicycle is stolen), but it's credit to Sally Hawkins for winning us over with a remarkably tuned performance. The support surrounding her is good, too: Eddie Marsan as an angrily conservative driving instructor, Alexis Zegerman as a loyal flatmate, Karina Fernandez as an enthusiastic and authority-driven Flamenco teacher. There's a fine line whether or not these supporting characters are caricatures, but there's a sense that, if we spent enough time with them, we'd find more worth than the surface suggests (as is the case with Poppy herself).
This is (apparently) a departure for Leigh into less socially bleak territory, but it feels at its most contrived when forcing social comment through: the plight of children's safety crops up in a casual afternoon chat in the pub, while Marsan's driving instructor is a venomous born-again who sees immigrants and ill-taught youths as society's biggest problem. This comes across, for the most part, as shorthand character-portrait, and Leigh is painting in broad strokes; the film's most alarming example of social commentary slash convenient plot device, though, is how Poppy meets her social worker boyfriend. Concerned about a violent upstart in her class, she is present with the boy when the social worker visits - the ease with which the boy's troubles are pinpointed feels in turn like an easy cop-out on Leigh's part: and, as it turns out, the boy is never mentioned again - his problem was there only to bring Poppy a date.
This said date is well-written and superbly performed: effectively clumsy in its presentation of superficial chit-chat, and cringe-worthy to watch in an endearingly humane sort of way - it's one of the funnier moments in the film, and is, at least, a lot more fitting than the befuddling scene earlier in the film in which Poppy approaches a mumbling, incoherent, homeless tramp.