Review: Mister Lonely

Mister Lonely

OPENING DATE: 05/02/2008

STUDIO: IFC Films

TRAILER: Trailer

ACCOMPLICES: Official Site

The Charge

They’re all chasing a great dream. They are all looking for answers. What they don’t realize is that they have found them already. They have found them in one another.

Opening Statement

The opening sequence of Harmony Korine’s new film Mister Lonely is one of the most hypnotic, colorful, and imaginative I’ve ever seen. As soon as we fade in, we see a line of red and white tires. On the left side of the screen, we slowly see a yellow object creep up above the tires. We soon realize it’s a helmet, and the guy who’s wearing it is also sporting sunglasses and a white mask over his face. He’s driving a small yellow moped, with a stuffed, winged monkey tagging along by means of a string. While other viewers in the theater may have been shaking their heads in disbelief, I was immediately intrigued as to who this person was.

Facts of the Case
His name is Michael Jackson. However, he’s not the real thing (thank goodness), but rather a lonely impersonator (Diego Luna, Y Tu Mama Tambien) living in Paris. Every day, he’s dances to a different Jackson beat in the streets, uninhibited and unchallenged by those walking around him. However, his profession isn’t restricted to sidewalk strutting. He also occasionally entertains people at retirement homes. On one such afternoon performance, he sees a woman dressed in a silky white dress outside watching through a window. She smiles, he’s transfixed.

Her name is Marilyn Monroe. However, she’s not the real thing (obviously), but another lonely impersonator (two-time Oscar nominee Samantha Morton) on a brief French getaway. Learning they are too lost souls who have found happiness in their celebrity guises, she invites him to come to her home: a Scottish isle inhabited solely by impersonators! Marilyn happens to be married to Charlie Chaplin (Denis Lavant), though Michael realizes soon after arriving that the union is void of love. He also discovers a group of dreamers (including Madonna, The Pope, and The Three Stooges, just to name a few) who are living out their fantasy figures with nonchalant pleasure.

There is a secondary plot, which acts more like a silent, spiritual Greek chorus of sorts. Father Umbrillo (filmmaker Werner Herzog, Grizzly Man) transports nuns (wearing blue-and-white garb) by plane from Africa to South American outposts. However, these nuns seem to be more into skydiving without parachutes instead of praying. The majority of Mister Lonely is devoted to the impersonators and, even though we may never get to know their real names, by the end of the film we learn more about them than the audiences they entertain.

The Evidence
To many critics and audiences, filmmaker Harmony Korine remains an enigma. Much of his art-house fare has been greeted with red-hot poker cynicism. In 1995, when he was only 19 years old, Korine made a name for himself writing Kids, the Larry Clark film about a bunch of N.Y.C. teenagers whose lives are consumed by drugs and sex. Controversy erupted over its subject matter, particularly when it showed actual teens in sexual situations, with the focus on a boy who loved to deflower virgins while also spreading AIDS. Then came Korine’s directing ventures, Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy, which were both attacked for making no sense and favoring exploitation over exposition.

After a nine-year absence, Korine has returned with a film which makes his older features look like crude student exercises. Mister Lonely has all the qualities of a mainstream film, and yet that Korine touch still makes it a tough sell to audiences. That being said, its wider accessibility can’t be ignored. For one thing, his script actually possesses a linear structure (for the most part), rather than seem like a series of images which have no connection and may or may not have a point. The numerous scenes with the nuns will no doubt get the latter reaction, though I actually found an allegorical connection between it and the impersonator plot line. When the nuns skydive with no verbal reasoning, I looked it as a way of being closer to the heavens and God himself, while the impersonators are trying to be more closer to the psyches of the celebrities they are emulating. In that sense, Korine’s characters are like spiritual puppets attempting to grasp a higher power or meaning, yet it’s impossible; others may look at it as a comment on our obsession with celebrity and religion. Take your pick.

Korine’s film is full of delicious imagery and visuals. I’ve already mentioned the skydiving nuns and the monkey moped, though individual scenes have a textured beauty all their own. When we see Michael and Marilyn ride up in a red-and-blue speedboat, we also see the magnificent mansion in which all these impersonators live in. Outside they are frolicking to the tune of their celebrity identities, and it’s almost as if we are transported to an alternate universe in which all of these famous people (dead or alive) are gathered for an outdoor party. While watching the film, I was tied as to whether it was meant to comedy or a drama, as it has elements of both. It seems more on the level of a surreal fantasy (hence the characters not given real names). Nevertheless, Korine has added so much detail and splendor (as well as rich metaphors and/or symbalism) to this one-of-a-kind original it really doesn’t matter.

Much of the film’s success is also due to its unique cast. Diego Luna (who some of you may remember from Open Range and Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights) has never been more appealing. Some may complain that he—like the other cast members—fail to impersonate their subjects well, but that isn’t Korine’s point here. I bought him actually thinking he’s Michael Jackson, whether it’s a good or bad interpretation; remember, these are not actors playing famous people for dramatic purposes as in biopics. Many of the unknowns actually hardly resemble their celebrity counterparts, which makes us view them more as real people. Plus, even though we don’t learn their real names, we still learn traces of their background as each scene unfolds.

Of all the fine performances in Mister Lonely, the one that stands out is Samantha Morton. Personally, I think she can do no wrong; she is so luminous as Marilyn Monroe that you can’t take your eyes off of her for a second. Here again, she doesn’t simply do an imitation of an iconic figure, but plays a lost soul with so much spirit and love for those around her it would be impossible not to care about her. There is a scene early on in which she brings strawberries to Luna one morning; here, her lovability and seductive innocence crystallized before my eyes. Ultimately, she’ s really the key to the film’s emotional center, and it pays off in heavy doses near the end.

The Rebuttal Witnesses
While I don’t have anything negative to say about the film itself, its going to be a problem for some people to see it, since it was released unrated. I’m sure this was Korine’s own decision (which I respect him for), and now audiences can only see it at a few venues across the country. I saw it in Washington D.C. (where it’s still playing), though it’s also available in Los Angeles, Nashville, Philadelphia, and N.Y.C. In case you’re wondering, the film would get an MPAA equivalent of an R, for language (uttered mostly by Abraham Lincoln!), and a brief, implied rape. Still, if you can, try to see it in a theater, as you would benefit from Korine’s sprawling canvas and the eye-popping cinematrogaphy, courtesy of Marcel Zyskind (A Mighty Heart).

Closing Statement

I’m still surprised at how much I loved Mister Lonely, considering Korine’s resume. I still have the film’s breathtaking, dream-like visuals in my head, and it’s going to be difficult to forget them. I’m not sure if this is a sign of whimisical greatness coming out of Korine, though he certainly has my high recommendation.

The Verdict
10/10

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