PAINT (B) - What silly fun. Owen Wilson does that thing of his, and he takes a ridiculous premise and somehow makes it work, in this surprisingly funny riff on the Vermont life of a frizzy-haired artist inspired by PBS legend Bob Ross.
Wilson stars as Carl Nargle (the goofy name is the first of many red flags you must ignore to make it through this), who has carved out a niche as a hack painter at the local PBS affiliate in Burlington, where he has assembled a stable of female admirers who jockey for the right to be invited into the pullout bed in the back of Nargle's upholstered van. But when a rival comes along -- young, beautiful Ambrosia (Ciara Renee) -- Nargle's star power quickly fades toward obsolescence.
Ambrosia not only takes over part of Carl's screen time, but she also makes a play for his ex, the meek director Katherine (Michaela Watkins). This all plays out with the goofiness of an Afterschool Special. It takes place in the present day (Carl is flummoxed by Uber), but the styles and the soundtrack are stuck in the 1970s. Sappy singer-songwriters of the day -- John Denver (the cloying "Annie's Song" makes several appearances) and Gordon Lightfoot -- dominate the soundtrack. Some songs land, such as Jerry Reed's "When You're Hot You're Hot":
Other oldies, like Heart's "Barracuda" and Dolly Parton's "Coat of Many Colors" are clunkier and fall flat. (Maybe it's the misogynist milieu.) The movie itself -- from the mind of writer-director Brit McAdams, who cut his chops with B-list comedians like Katt Williams and Daniel Tosh -- is such a mish-mash of ideas and gags that there is no reason any of this should work as well as it does. Part of that is Wilson's commitment to such a ridiculous character. Carl is comically zen but also lacks self-awareness; while watching an old clip of his show he scoffs at the shirt he was wearing, only to realize he is still wearing the same style. He is chronically stuck in the '70s, and it's amusing to watch women fall all over him (until, of course, Ambrosia starts siphoning off everyone's attention). The supporting cast of mostly character actors helps sell this. Watkins, abnormally subdued, makes the most of her deadpan deliveries, and Stephen Root does what he can as the inept station manager.
Part of the time I was rolling my eyes and wondering why this was much longer than a TV sketch. But the rest of the time, I was laughing out loud. Perhaps the best shorthand explanation is to point out that Chekhov's gun here is a salon-grade hair dryer that looms in the background until just the right time to deploy it for comedic effect.
"Paint" is even downright sweet at times, and again, give credit to Wilson's subtle skills as an actor and comedian. McAdams wrings actual emotion from the scenes between Carl and his barber, in spite of the goofy premise that entails to begin with. Wilson also wrings some pathos out of this emotionally vacant yet yearning pseudo celebrity. Carl barely bothers to diversify his portfolio; he likes to paint the same mountain over and over again. He smokes a pipe unironically. And he thinks his viewers are traveling to a "special place" with him every episode. How do Wilson and McAdams manage to wrap this up with some authentic sentiment?
Even John Denver wrote a good song once in a while. Some things just inexplicably work.
BONUS TRACKS
The references to John Denver brought to mind Monty Python's takedown of the chipper popster:
The final credits kick in to a nugget from one of the '70s' would-be New Dylans, Steve Forbert, with "Romeo's Tune":
And that segues into one of my favorite cheesy country tunes from the era, Don Williams' "I Believe in You":
No comments:
Post a Comment