Frank is a comedy drama following the exploits of the fictional, unpronounceable indie band Soronprfbs and their new keyboard artist Jon (Domhnall Gleeson). The leader of the band, Frank (Michael Fassbender), lives every moment of his life wearing a giant papier-mâché head, a device loosely based on the 1980’s comedian Chris Sievey and his character Frank Sidebottom. Directed by Lenny Abrahamson (What Richard Did) and co-written by Sievey’s own bandmate Jon Ronson, upon whom Gleeson’s character is based.
It should be noted that I’m not fond of the ‘indie’ scene. I
have no time for slow, drab ukulele music and the sort of navel-gazing,
self-deprecating attitude and ‘quirky’ moniker that hangs like a black cloud
over most of what is considered ‘indie’, the Zooey Deschanel character in 500 Days of Summer just about pushing my
limits. As far as Frank is concerned,
I was utterly charmed by it. The songs are not only unique and inspired, but
they also help to create and work in tandem with the comedy elements with each
of the band members given their own traits that prevent them from becoming
bland and uninvolving side characters. They’re not just a lot of dreary
soliloquizing but are intriguingly eccentric and boasting such an extraordinary
range of instruments that it’s almost impossible to pick up on all of them in
one viewing.
The most important thing about the film is that it is very,
very funny. Ranging from physical comedy to vocal gags and entire set-pieces devoted
to one joke, there’s much to enjoy here. Without wishing to spoil the fun for
those yet to see it, a certain scene involving a Jacuzzi is tear-inducingly
funny and just the Frank head by itself is so weird and placid that it’s comedy
gold all by itself, not to mention the songs created out of the smallest little
things, a standout of which would have to be Frank’s ode to a singular tuft of
carpet.
Where performances are concerned, it’s interesting (but not
surprising) that the Frank character has taken centre stage in the advertising
for the film when really the true star is Domhnall Gleeson, who provides
possibly the sanest voice in a film populated by over-blown characters and
seems to be echoing a young Hugh Grant in his dumbfounded and stuttering moments,
minus the upper-class smarm. That being said, Michael Fassbender – despite
being shrouded contanstly in the enormous head – still manages to deliver a
memorable performance as a man who seems to revel in the oxymoron of being
forever hidden yet ecstatic at the prospect of fame. Maggie Gyllenhaal lends an
enjoyable degree of depravity as control-freak Clara and Scoot McNairy (who is
certainly going up in the world) provides a lot of laughs as the bands manager.
Though you feel that towards the end, a little of the magic
starts to fade and the film wavers uncertainly, it manages to pull everything
back for a low-key yet charming finale. Frank
is not your average laugh-out-loud comedy, and though some may be put off by
its off-beat, quirky attitude, it’s saving grace lies in the characters, their
music, and the unashamedly wonderful eccentricity with which it carries itself.
4.5 Stars
