Craig Gilner is 16-years-old, a taciturn, nervous, shell of a teenager. His face, boyish and innocent, sinks between his two scrawny shoulders, as if it could hide from the troubles of the world in the cavity above his chest. He speaks quietly, mumbling when spoken to, offering phrases like “bourgeois decadence” because they sound more accomplished than he is. When asked to do vocals during a musical therapy session, Craig states that he doesn’t sing.
But Craig is dragged to the microphone and the unstable ensemble of misfits and nut jobs rattle away while the teacher plays a few beats on a bass guitar. Craig looks down, and the screen goes black. Suddenly, he’s back, spotlighted, decked in 80’s glam-rock regalia and hilarious, singing Queen’s “Under Pressure” in its entirety with a backup group of hair-metal mental hospital patients. At first the gag draws laughs, as the characters pantomime around the stage to Freddie Mercury’s falsetto vocals. But the song continues past the initial chuckles, and the sorry bunch of rejected adults, finally smiling, finally free, belt out the lyrics “Can’t we give ourselves one more chance?” before fading back into reality.
This silly sentimentality drives It’s Kind of a Funny Story, an indie dramedy adapted by writer/director team Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck from a 2006 book of the same name . It’s a surprising turn for the duo, who received critical acclaim for their previous, far more solemn efforts in Half Nelson and Sugar, made all the more astonishing by clever writing and a cast of memorable characters that overcome the rampant sappiness within.
Funny Story follows Craig, played by sitcom actor Keir Gilchrist, as he checks himself into a mental hospital after contemplating suicide for the umpteeth time in his relatively short life. But once checked in, Craig learns the teen ward is under construction, leaving him trapped on the adult floor for the next five days.
The film has an abundance of comedic material lying in wait, and effortlessly makes use of almost all of it. In a scene where Craig contemplates jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge early in the film, he leaves his bike behind on the sidewalk. His family bursts into the vision. “We spent a lot of money on that bike, son,” Craig’s distant father says, “We only ask that you take care of it.”
It’s a fairly straightforward plot from there on in, where life lessons about anxiety and love drip from the screen, forming a torrent by the saccharine finale. Funny Story’s real strength is its cast of certifiably crazy characters, from an ascetic Jew suffering from a bad acid trip to an Egyptian gentleman who refuses to leave his sterile room.
But chief among them as the king of this crooked roost is Bobby, played by he-of-the-unpronounceable-name, Zach Galifianakis. Galifianakis’ portrayal is the highlight of the film, showing off his considerable talents as more than just a socially clueless comic foil and earning the stardom he has been thrust into.
Bobby is a smooth-talking bearded giant of a man who deftly masquerades as a doctor during his free time to explore the hospital. His reason is simple: the ER has the best coffee. He seems at peace with his predicament, content in being the only sane one in the loony bin. When playing table tennis (the name ‘ping pong,’ he explains, demeans the sport), he serves the ball to a vacant inmate. “One, zip,” he chortles.
Unlike the raving maniacs around him, Bobby is a rock of sanity. Only in brief moments is his shattered nature revealed. In one notable scene, Bobby walks around with a blue shirt wrapped around his skull. He sits down calmly at a couch, sighs, then rips the cushion clean off and screams into it, his whole body shaking under the barely-bottled fury. When Craig, who has watched with first confusion, then concern, asks what’s wrong, Bobby flies into a rage. He’s a fiery beast, unleashed on a bookcase, wailing as he tears the toys and books from the shelves.
Galifianakis tackles this role with surprising dexterity, alternating between the off-kilter persona and the unhinged adult with ease. Whereas The Hangover’s empty-headed Alan and Dinner for Schmucks’ villainous cuckoo Therman are hopeless in their stupidity, Bobby is at once sympathetic and alive. His wisecracks are plausible, his silliness understandable, and his pain certainly believable.
Yet even with all this talk of life and death, the movie never loses touch with its ultimate goal: to amuse. Almost every serious scene is preceded or followed by a laughable moment of mental hospital humor. When Bobby finally explains to Craig why he’s committed, there is silence. Bobby pipes up, shattering the somber moment. “That’s the part where you go, ‘Hey Bobby, your life’s not so bad.”
Boden and Fleck give a script light enough to keep the movie from wallowing in issues of mental instability. It’s a touchy subject, handled with a grace and humor expected from far more seasoned directors.
How ironic that the film falters when love is introduced. Like (500) Days of Summer before it, Funny Story can’t resist tossing in a coming-of-age romance. Perhaps this device would have worked with stronger leads, but Gilchrist and his principle love interest, played by Emma Roberts, are hollow when compared to the depth of the supporting cast. In this psych ward, the crazies are the stars of the show.
It’s pronounced GAL-IF-uh-NACK-iss. Learn to say it right, because Zach G just earned his stardom with this fantastic performance. Silly and sweet, It’s Kind of a Funny Story is an enjoyable indie comedy, despite it’s own sappiness making every attempt to sabotage the film: B+
