Frank

Frank is probably the hardest film that I have ever watched to describe to someone who has never watched it. After viewing I had literally nothing to say. This is because it was a truly excellent watch.

I was initially attracted to 'Frank' by its strange and wacky trailer with promised an insane black comedy.

The first hour of Frank delivers on this completely and it is hugely entertaining. Some of the funniest scenes that I've seen at the cinema this year. This in my mind is properly revised comedy, until the film which is currently sitting at the top of the box office charts 'bad neighbours.' Anyways i digress.

During the last portion of the film there is a massive shift in the films tone, which could have easily been extremely jarring for the viewer but it is delivered in such a way that it only seems natural. This is when I decided that I did truly love the film. Not only was i capable of making me laugh but then also then to look at the more serious end of the coin.

I don't think that 'Frank' will make anywhere near as much money as some of the larger blockbuster which came out this week, but I done believe that it will linger in the memory of those who watch it. I can almost guarantee that Frank will become a cult classic over time.

(Also the soundtrack is bloody brilliant)

Funny, endearing movie led with a strange, flinty charm by Domhnall Gleeson, and expertly directed by Lenny Abrahamson. Within what is fundamentally a straightforward story, a lot of themes are packed - artistic credibility, the easy triumph of mediocrity, the nature of identity and individuality. And there are more. Too many, really.

The writers are keen to maintain a light tone, as if wary that the heavier themes might weigh us all down too much. Fortunately they have two major, definitely not mediocre, talents on hand to maintain the required balance: Michael Fassbender and Maggie Gyllenhaal, who are both amazing. For Fassbender in particular there needs to be a special award for succeeding in being intensely moving whilst wearing a false head.

So although the movie as a whole doesn't quite add up to more than the sum of its parts, it is nonetheless a wonderfully quirky, often hilarious, strangely touching piece of work. Well worth seeing and supporting.

"Frank" explores the fine and not-so-fine line between creative genius and insanity. Although you might assume a movie about an alternative rock band with a lead singer who wears a giant fake head that he never takes off would be a work of fiction, the truth, as they say, is stranger, and provides a compelling basis for a movie.

"Frank" is co-written by Jon Ronson based on his experience playing keyboard in the Frank Sidebottom Oh Blimey Big Band in the late '80s. Frank Sidebottom was the alter ego of a man named Chris Sievey, who wore a giant fake head almost identical to the one Frank (Michael Fassbender) wears in the movie. Ronson based the film's main character, Jon (Domhnall Gleeson) on himself; both real and fictional Jon found themselves randomly in this band, ditching their existing lives in pursuit of musical greatness, trying to make sense of the enigma of the man in the giant head.

With screenwriter Peter Straughan's ("Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy") help, Ronson dives into a fictional replication of his experience with the band. Gleeson's Jon is an aspiring songwriter completely lacking in inspiration who gets an unusual opportunity to play a gig for an experimental band called Soronprfbs after he witnesses their keyboardist attempting to drown himself. Jon has the time of his life and agrees to travel to Ireland with the group, only to discover it's not a road trip to play a few shows, but a retreat at which the unorthodox Frank will stop at nothing until he's recorded an astounding new album.

For all the mystery shrouding his character, Frank is far from the most eccentric band member. In fact, he's the most congenial. We also learn about the other keyboardist, Don's (Scoot McNairy), volatile history with mental illness and musician Clara's (Maggie Gyllenhaal) propensity for violence. Unsurprisingly, Jon's gleaning from it all is that deep adversity and mental anguish is a pre- requisite to talent.

Director Lenny Abrahamson brings a natural yet surreal quality that honors the weirdness of the story, while also helping us access the psychology of the characters and take interest in what's happening in a very rooted way. He keeps the reality of what's going on with its characters in play while experimenting with a number of scenes that push the bizarreness to varying levels. There are elements of black comedy, but also of honest, soul-stirring truth.

The first half of "Frank" focuses more on the creative process and the mental headspace necessary to operate at peak creativity. When Jon signs them up for a very promising gig and begins pushing his own creative agenda, forcing the story to leave the confines of the Ireland vacation home, the film turns to examine the real pain of its characters and what happens to creativity when complications of fandom and notoriety enter the mix.

Throughout it all we see a gradual change in Jon as a character, and he becomes less likable because of all that his dreams and naiveté have wrought. This has a slightly adverse effect on the viewing experience, making it kind of painful to watch all these troubled characters with their misguided attitudes drown themselves in a sea of expectations and principles. At the same time, this leads to an honest, moving redemptive arc in the final half hour of the movie, when this bizarre flower of a story opens up to reveal its fragile insides.

"Frank" can feel rough and disjointed tonally at points and grow a little irksome, but much like how a band with a weird sound still has artistic integrity somewhere underneath that drives that creative choice, "Frank" stays committed to looking at talent, creativity and mental illness in a very authentic, productive way that makes it worth the quirks.

~Steven C

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Greetings again from the darkness. Most movies fit pretty easily into a genre: drama, comedy, action, etc. This latest from film festival favorite Lenny Abrahamson is tough to classify. It begins with silly and funny inner-dialogue from an aspiring musician/songwriter (Domhnall Gleeson), transitions into a dark dramady with complex characters and dialogue, and finishes as a bleak statement on mental illness and the music business.

That's more than I would typically disclose, but some have described the film as an outright comedy and I find that unconcsionable. If you are expecting a laugh riot, you will not only be disappointed, but are likely to miss the unique perspective provided.

The screenplay is written by "The Men Who Stare at Goats" collaborators Jon Ronson and Peter Straughan. Clearly inspired by the late British comedian and musician Chris Sievey (and his character Frank Sidebottom), Mr. Ronson's work with Mr. Sievey is the driving force. It's also the reason Gleeson's character is emphasized over Michael Fassbender's titular character who dons the paper mache head for the bulk of the movie. This script decision probably keeps the film from being truly great.

The exceptional and attention-grabbing first 15 minutes set up a movie that dissolves into an exploration of the creative process within mental illness ... Franks states numerous times that he has a certificate (certifiable). There is also an ongoing battle between art and commerce, as waged by Maggie Gyllenhaal's character and that of Gleeson. Social Media power is on full display as this avant-garde performance art band gathers a huge following prior to ever really producing any music.

Without seeing Frank's facial expressions, we witness his transformation from mystic/guru to an unstable and socially uncomfortable dude striving for likability, but unsure what the term really means. Must artists suffer for their art? Why does society latch onto the newest social media gimmick? What is creative success and why are so many afraid of it? The film begs these and other unanswerable questions. Certainly interesting, but definitely not 90 minutes of laughter.

I happened to see the trailer for a movie I had never heard of, called Frank, at 8:45AM this Saturday morning. Within five minutes of seeing the preview, I found that the Angelika Theater at Mockingbird Station was the only place in Dallas showing this wonderfully bizarre looking movie, and by 10:20AM, I was sitting in a dark room with about twelve other people, waiting to see just what this giant paper-mache head had in store for us.

Maybe I should step back to explain that last part. Frank revolves around an avant-garde musician names Frank, who is never seen without an oversized paper-mache mask on. The trailer promised quirky indie escapism, possibly some decent music, and some references to SXSW – ahhh, there is such beauty in under-promising and over-delivering.

For a brief moment, it feels like Frank will be little more than a stylized fictional Behind The Music type of movie because the central narrative is observed and reported from the viewpoint of an involved outsider, the new guy in the band. The outsider point of view is a perfect choice, however, because the audience then has the same questions as the narrator so we're all in it together. Is the end product of music/art as important as the process of creating it or who you create it with? Frank captures the ambition and compulsion of creating art and very harshly slaps away any generalizations of how or why an artist is the way he is. The paper- mache head isn't a gimmick for the movie or the music.

On the topic of music, Frank and his band The Soronprfbs, are easily ranked in the top five fictional bands – The Wonders(That Thing You Do), Stillwater(Almost Famous), Eddie & The Cruisers(Eddie & The Crusiers), Wylde Ratttz(Velvet Goldmine), and The Soronprfbs(Frank). The music falls somewhere between The Flaming Lips, Jim Morrison, and an extremely catchy coffee shop rambler.

The band is absolutely mesmerizing every single second they are on the screen and much of that credit has to go to Michael Fassbender. Because we can't see his face, every bit of emotion must be poured out elsewhere. Fassbender delivers an extremely physical performance. From the combination of his hands and voice, to the way he shuffles when uncomfortable, to the way he loses control when he sings, the small crowd that happens to see Frank this year will be seeing one of the best performances of 2014.

It has been almost two days since I saw Frank and I still can't get it out of my mind. Maybe it's the music or maybe it's the acting but I think the bigger reason is that it asks the questions I thought only I had. How does someone create something both abstract and powerful? What part of my brain should I be tapping into? Why can't I? Frank is a photograph of the special brand of artistic jealousy that wants to be or at least be part of something bigger and better than ourselves, all while realizing the privilege of simply getting to be witness to that greatness.