shoop and world's greatest dad

This time, I'm afraid the build-up is going to greatly exceed the payoff--I promised word on the great movie I saw using the special "on demand" function that occasionally shows indie films that are still in theaters. That would be too bad, because "World's Greatest Dad" is a darkly funny, very sharp satire, and you ought to take a look.



George S. Kaufman probably would have taken back "Satire is what closes on a Saturday night" if he knew how many people were going to quote it. More to the point, satire dies a little bit every time somebody doesn't get it, or every time someone tries to be "satirical" and fails miserably. And both those things happen often, because satire is the biggest asshole of the arts--it tells you to your face that you're an idiot, and dares you to laugh at yourself. That's why satirists often hide behind a mask of geniality--it's easy to smile with mild amusement when it's lovable, folksy Pogo Possum saying, "We have met the enemy, and he is us." In our time, occasionally Mike Judge (Beavis and Butt-Head, Office Space, Idiocracy) and those bad boys of South Park pull off some real satire, and now we can add Bobcat Goldthwait (now imagine Goldthwait saying that in his trademark strangled screech, which apparently he doesn't like doing anymore. Can't blame him--that had to hurt).



World's Greatest Dad features, among other elements, Robin Williams' best performance in, well, I'm not sure how long. His character is defeated and dejected--a disliked high school teacher and failed writer (that's almost redundant) scorned by his hilariously dim and profane son, patronized by his officious principal (props to Bobcat for casting old "Unhappily Ever After" co-star Geoff Pierson), and played by his much younger girlfriend. Williams inhabits the loser-figure fully, with no twinkling and no "inspired" riffs for the supporting characters to laugh at. His (very few) students stare at him blankly, and he's long given up any dreams he had of inspiring anybody. What turns Williams' fortunes around is the most horrible event a father can imagine--and the failed writer uses his skills to re-stage a incredibly stupid accident into cosmic tragedy. Suddenly, he has more students than he can handle, book deals, media attention, and the full sympathy and respect of musician Bruce Hornsby (it makes sense in context). It's dark, subversive, sometimes hilarious, and always very smart, even if you quibble with the perhaps too-redemptive ending.

Now I'll have to go back and check out "Shakes the Clown."