Stars:
*** 1/2
Rating: PG-13 for sexual
content
Run
Time: 1
hour, 46 minutes
Supremely
gifted Ryan Gosling inherits a uniquely quirky protagonist in this thoroughly
refreshing dramedy.
Titular “hero”
Lars Lindstrom (Gosling) is a socially awkward stiff living in a detached
garage apartment across from older brother Gus (Paul Schneider) and Gus’ perkily
pregnant wife Karin (Emily Mortimer).
Karin is
anxious to welcome her bachelor brother-in-law into the fold, perpetually
throwing out breakfast invites and the like. It’s a banner day for all when Lars
announces he’s dating and bringing his new gal pal to dinner.
No one sees
this one coming: Lars’ squeeze is an anatomically correct silicone sex doll
named Bianca who, according to Lars, is a crippled half-Brazilian missionary
from the tropics who was raised by nuns.
Gus and
Karin go with the flow and at first opportunity nip Lars off to the local MD
(doubling as a shrink in this snowy Midwestern burg). Dr. Dagmar (Patricia
Clarkson) informs them that Lars is working something out and asks them to play
along with his delusion.
And play
along they do, together with the whole blessed town who takes Bianca into their
homes and their hearts by dragging her to socials, treating her to spa days and
electing her to the local school board.
As Lars,
the community, and we learn to love and respect Bianca humor turns to sorrow.
Lars continues to meet the good doctor who subtly peels back layers of psychological
wounds to get to the root of Lars’ neuroses (he recoils from touch) and tinker
with his issues. Lars’ measured reconciliation with his own emotional baggage
is perfectly and profoundly poignant.
Dramedy is
a tricky business; it’s not easy striking the right balance of laughter and
tears, especially when your heroine is a life-sized synthetic siren. Director
Craig Gillespie gets it right, guiding his actors with a deft touch and
choosing plausible pathos over lewd laughs or cloying comedy. Nancy Oliver’s
scripting is smart and snappy.
Gosling and
Schneider are spot on as brothers coming to terms with their own roles in a
shared past. Mortimer is a dream; sweet, sensitive and charmingly astute.
Clarkson plays it smart as the voice of reason and Kelli Garner is marvelously
daft as Lars’ desperately flirtatious co-worker who yearns for more than
standard water-cooler stuff.
Kudos to costumer
Gerri Gillan for going all out with an unsightly parade of Midwestern woolery
in the form of fashionably unfortunate Argyle and
Tender,
thoughtful and distinctive.