April 1, 2009
In the ever so disturbing documentary Guys and Dolls (Nick Holt, 2007), we came face to face with several men who were happy to be filmed discussing their purchase of a blow up girlfriend. One even lived with his parents. So you might think that a film which depicts a similar character might have difficulty coming across as heart warming, life affirming and – in the best traditions of the American ‘indie’ – sort of quirky. Lars and the Real Girl does all of these, and whilst it certainly won’t make you feel that buying an inflatable partner is a good thing, it’s a film which is both endearing and well acted.
Set in a small northern US town where everyone wears hats and gloves – think Fargo or Northern Exposure - Lars is a timid and painfully shy late 20s loner who lives in a garage next door to his brother and sister-in-law. Religious but desperate to avoid human interaction, Lars decides to buy Bianca, a latex inflatable, who he proceeds to introduce to the rest of the town as his new girlfriend. Yes, Lars is weirder than we all first thought. Cue nervous laughter.
Instead of being pilloried and driven out as an outcast, however, the town instead pull together to drag Lars from his role as delusional misfit. We begin to understand his family history, and the psychological trap that he has created for himself. Crucially, Lars’ relationship with Bianca is romantic rather than sexual, so he is cast as work in progress rather than sick pervert, and there are signs that he may just pull through.
This is a gentle and well meaning film. It’s fairly twee in places, but it’s difficult not to be touched by the warmth of the characters (Bianca excepted). It’s about kindness, understanding and redemption – there’s no sexual deviancy in sight. And if you want an intelligent and wholesome indie flick, Lars and the Real Girl won’t let you down.
Set in a small northern US town where everyone wears hats and gloves – think Fargo or Northern Exposure - Lars is a timid and painfully shy late 20s loner who lives in a garage next door to his brother and sister-in-law. Religious but desperate to avoid human interaction, Lars decides to buy Bianca, a latex inflatable, who he proceeds to introduce to the rest of the town as his new girlfriend. Yes, Lars is weirder than we all first thought. Cue nervous laughter.
Instead of being pilloried and driven out as an outcast, however, the town instead pull together to drag Lars from his role as delusional misfit. We begin to understand his family history, and the psychological trap that he has created for himself. Crucially, Lars’ relationship with Bianca is romantic rather than sexual, so he is cast as work in progress rather than sick pervert, and there are signs that he may just pull through.
This is a gentle and well meaning film. It’s fairly twee in places, but it’s difficult not to be touched by the warmth of the characters (Bianca excepted). It’s about kindness, understanding and redemption – there’s no sexual deviancy in sight. And if you want an intelligent and wholesome indie flick, Lars and the Real Girl won’t let you down.