Happiness (1998)

  This is another recommendation from one of my paramours, and oh boy, was it a doozy.

It's one of those "not for everyone" kind of movies.  Unless you're part of that weird fringe group that thinks dismemberment, pedophilia, and misery are hilarious, you should not watch this movie.  It's definitely for the It's Always Sunny in Philidelphia crowd.  In fact, I have been sitting on this review for five days, wondering how I was going to be able to describe it without sounding like the most depraved, soulless bitch on the planet.

Because I thought it was hysterical.

The awkwardness and daily horror of these people just compounds, folding over onto itself like one of those master-made katana blades.  It's hard to do awkward humor well.  I did not like Napoleon Dynamite; in fact, it's one of the only movies I have ever walked out on unfinished.  I didn't find it funny because it was too close to people I had actually known in real life.  Thank God I don't know anyone like the people in Happiness.  Holy Jesus. 

Now that I've had a few days to think about it, the difference between the two sets of characters is innocence.  In Napoleon Dynamite, the characters really had no idea how big of losers they were which made laughing at them really unsporting for me.  It's like kicking a peglegged kitten.  The characters in Happiness are incredibly aware that they have the losing raffle ticket in the game of Life. 

You have Joy, the woman who cries all the time.  Her life is shit (failed folk music career, dead end job, inability to connect with men).  She is trying so hard to be good and positive but her self-esteem is a china doll on a high shelf in an earthquake zone.  Her sister, Helen, is a successful author (who secretly struggles because her life has been so perfect she doesn't feel as though she deserves success) and her sister, Trish, has the perfect domestic life married to Bill, a therapist (secret pedophile).  One of Bill's patients is Allen, who fantasizes about his unattainable neighbor, Helen, and makes obscene phone calls to relieve the tension.  For a minute, there's a chance he might make a connection with his other neighbor, Kristina, as two socially awkward lonely people, but then that takes the express train to WTFville.  I cackled like a goddamned hyena during that whole piece.  Bill's son Timmy is eleven and beginning to struggle with puberty, which leads to the most awkward and disturbing father-son talk ever. 

Based on the Netflix sleeve, I was expecting to be disgusted but I actually found myself enjoying the entire film.  And in six months, maybe a year, I might see the sequel Life During Wartime.  But you should not take this as a blanket "I liked this, so you'll like it too!" kind of recommendation.  It's more like a warning.  I liked this movie.  You should worry if you liked it too.

Side note:  the actor who plays Vlad, the weird Russian cab driver (Jared Harris) has been cast in the upcoming Sherlock Holmes sequel as Professor Moriarty.  I find that ridiculously exciting for some reason.