Will Ashton gives his opinions about the new movie Frank starring Michael Fassbender.
Even when supported by his good looks and his natural charisma, Michael Fassbender’s on-screen appearances, much like Johnny Depp and Jared Leto, have never been there to egotistically enforce his well-chiseled face into the spotlight. Even his revealing performance in Shame was broken by his character’s oblivious illness ignorance.
Keeping this in mind, it should come to no surprise that someone like Fassbender would spend his next movie, Frank, completely masked in a giant, plastic head.
Based on the late comedian Chris Sievey’s on-stage character Frank Sidebottom, although titled off of Fassbender’s reclusive character, Frank centers on Jon Burroughs (Domhnall Gleeson). A keyboardist who, despite good intentions, cannot find his musical niche or the inspiration to write good, thoughtful songs. But, after watching a fellow keyboardist attempting to drown himself in the ocean, he runs into a low-level experimental pop-rock band Soronprfbs. Who somewhat begrudgingly decide that he can be in their band.
During a disastrous, almost unattended first show, Jon meets Soronprfbs’ reclusive lead and musical force of nature Frank (Fassbender). Despite this bad performance, Jon finds himself locked inside a cabin with the band, as they desperately try to put together their next album. As they work their way towards making a new album—a tedious process driven out to near extinction by Frank’s perfectionist mentality—Jon finds himself growing more baffled, but also more open to the weird, embracing strangeness coming from Soronprfbs’ normal demeanor. That is, until he makes an effort to put the band on the map.
About ten years ago or so, there was a constant effort made by independent features—and some studio productions—to capture as much off-kilter weirdness and cutesy quirkiness containable, while also gaining wide audience appeal. At times, Frank feels like it is a throwback to these movies, constantly wielding a go-for-broke wackiness that only sometimes works out. But what keeps this comedy/drama afloat, ultimately, is the well-nursed performances from its principal cast and keenly tender direction from Leonard Abrahamson.
The stand out of the bunch is Maggie Gyllenhaal as Clara, the band’s scornfully distrustful and constantly frowning co-creative collaborator. But major props should be driven towards Scoot McNairy’s Don and the wide-eyed, puppy-dog like lead performance from Gleeson. The one performance, though, that becomes kind of an enigma to judge is—as one would guess—Fassbender’s. Not distinctly because he is constantly shielded by his fake head, but because his character is written so inconsistent that it is hard to tell what comes across as the actor lacking control or the filmmakers driving him too zany for quirkiness appeal (an oxymoron, if ever there was one).
Fassbender has never truly dipped his toes in comedy before this. So it is natural that he would be a little wonky on first arrival. But where he seems to succeed the most is in the smaller, more wryly dry moments. Whether its bluntly explaining his unseen expressions or attempting to drink beer through a straw around his fake head, these are the moments that score. Unfortunately, as the comedy progresses, Abrahamson and writers Jon Ronson and Peter Straughan seem all too content on making Frank more and more zany as the movie progresses. To some rather tired results.
The movie’s rather conventional narrative—despite its eccentricities— and its overbearing attempts at being cheeky sometimes blanket over the movie’s well-earned emotional underscores. For there is something of a soft key emotional charm that earns its full ascendance in the movie’s final act. But these moments sometimes have to take a backseat to the movie’s overly thought-out comedic pokes.
The movie is not afraid to play it dark; more so in the drama than comedy—but both are apparent. And, where this may come across as overdone and manipulative in other movies, Abrahamson and his cast have an appropriate reservation to everything that makes the moments pungently sweet in mild-mannered forcefulness.
There is definitely something to be appreciated in Frank’s canniness towards not getting too caught up in the details of the moment. Especially when it comes to the title character’s decision to wear a giant fake head at all times, saying only “You’re going to have to just go with it” instead of deeply questioning the psychology of everything happening.
It’s just, at times, a shame that the movie couldn’t divorce itself from being so self-aware in being atypical. The ride is not unappreciated, but there is always the constant feeling that everything so stingily nontraditional here didn’t need to come from such heavy-asserted awkwardness. But, like the characters themselves, when you don’t think too much about everything and just go for the ride, that’s when everyone has the most fun.
3/5 stars
