Comfort and Joy

At times the plot slows down to the point of drudgery. The script is not the wittiest or not nearly the most clever by Forsythe standards. Yet, by the end of the film I felt I had seen a truly wonderful little movie--charming, elusive, touching, like the remembrance of a Christmas wish from childhood.

But, perhaps because we can all too well identify with the loss that Bill Patterson's character is trying to deal with (the best thing that could have happened to him, really) and his catharsis so delicately drawn, that the film is so satisfying. Many of my friends could not recognize its quality. Sad for them. There are great messages here, important ones, not the least of which, but perhaps the most sentimental, and (dare I say?) the true meaning of Christmas: to lose one's life is to find it.

Bravo, Mr. Forsythe, et al. Bravo, indeed. (Bill Patterson is gold!)

It's instructive to look at Bill Forsyth's mid-Eighties comedy in light of the Alan Partridge cycle of television shows, in which Steve Coogan portrayed a monstrously egotistical radio presenter completely unaware of the fact that everyone hates him, and would rather see him off the airwaves as soon as possible. Likewise Bill Paterson's "Dickie" (actually Alan) Bird comes across as someone so wrapped up in his radio persona that he cannot see what's happening around him. In the ersatz world of jingles, pop music, and inane chatter, he is a big star; to everyone else he is nothing but a pain. It's thus hardly surprising that his long-time girlfriend Maddy (Eleanor David) chooses to move out.

Set around Christmastime in the center of Glasgow, COMFORT AND JOY looks as if it might be a highly ironic title for a film whose central character cannot find inner peace, and who becomes unwittingly involved in a turf war between rival ice cream sellers. What makes Bill Forsyth's film so endearing is the way he shows so many people making mountains out of emotional and personal windmills. Glasgow is sufficiently big to accommodate both the McCool cartel led by the Mafia-style boss (Roberto Bernardi), as well as the more fly-by- night outfit led by Trevor (Alex Norton). It is simply pride - as well as other issues - that prevents them from arriving at a deal.

As the action unfolds, however, so Alan/Dickie undergoes something of a change of character. He finds out that he can make things happen - not by trying to sustain his arrogant radio persona, but rather treating people on their own terms. He manages to find a particularly satisfying resolution to bring the two sides in the ice cream war together, leaving him ready and willing to face the world with renewed vigor. He might be on his own on Christmas Day, but he understands the importance now of maintaining relationships, both personal and public.

Shot in muddy color in perhaps the most anti-Thatcherite of cities, COMFORT AND JOY offers a glimpse of life beyond the mid-1980s illusion of prosperity and individual self-improvement. People struggle to survive in this city in whatever way they can, even if it means selling ice cream for a living. Their world deserves to be recognized, even though very different from English life at the same time.

The film is replete with memorable cameos, from Scottish actor Rikki Fulton's Hilary - Alan's smooth-talking boss who thinks his star employee has gone barking mad - to C. P. (aka Clare) Grogan's stellar turn as Charlotte. COMFORT AND JOY might be a film with a morally soft center, but it manages to make some acute social observations along the way.

Anything Bill Forsyth does is worth collecting. You will like some movies more than others, but they're all gems - the antithesis of the Hollywood movie that has to come out of the screen and grab you, yank you. This is film making about people; this is a movie about the human spirit; there are elements of Fawlty Towers in here, the way certain plot elements gradually collide; viewers across the pond may feel bored, expecting something to 'happen' in the sense they are used to; but Forsyth is the best there is for the human soul.

See it - and collect it.

This film's main plot ingredient is ice cream...but until it gets there (10 - 20 minutes in), it's surprisingly bland for a Bill Forsyth movie. Nevertheless, if you can make it through that beginning, you're in for a treat...maybe not on the order of a pint of Ben and Jerry's, but at least a fudgsicle from the corner mini-mart. It's also an unsung Christmas movie, good to check out if you're tired of seeing It's a Wonderful Life or A Christmas Story over and over. Cheerio, folks!

A slight tale from Bill Forsyth and bizarrely inspired by actual Ice Cream wars that took place in Glasgow in the 1980s. This is more an absurdist comedy drama whereas the real events were more sinister.

Bill Paterson is the early morning DJ 'Dicky' Bird left rudderless when his suddenly girlfriend leaves him and taking most of his possessions with her.

Dicky's remaining pride and joy is a red sports BMW and his witty one liners for his radio show. While following an attractive girl in an ice cream van he suddenly finds himself middle of an ice cream van war. He soon winds up become an intermediary between the warring parties as his local fame is recognized.

His radio boss meanwhile thinks Dicky is going nuts with the breakdown of his relationship and the ice cream feud takes it toll.

Dicky may have an answer as soon as you can shout 'Baked Alaska' and maybe he can turn his life around as well.

Bill Patterson hits the right tone as the radio presenter missing his shoplifting Ex. It would had been easy to make his character bitter or a smarmy smart Alec.

The ice cream feud looks sinister but soon settles down as they banter over Kunzle cake. However the film needs more than this for its heart and soul and Forsyth just could not provide anything more substantial. It is good fun but that is all.