Review of Frank (2014) by Simon P — 19 Nov 2014

This review is relatively spoiler free.

There will be much confusion about what 'Frank' is about. Already reviewers and audiences alike are reporting it to be "strange" and "odd," and that it is. Admittingly, you'd be forgiven for being confused by the sight of a fiber-glass head-wearing Michael Fassbender singing about a single tuft of fabric protruding from the tight weave of a rug. It's bloody strange indeed, and very funny. But the film is a lot easier to understand than you might think. At it's core, 'Frank' is a story about romantisising mental illness, and the ethical dilemmas that tend to come with that. That's the crux of it. It's also a story about the fine line between creativity and madness, and where and how the two might intersect.

But first thing's first. The audience is brought into this indie odyssey via the dreamy, wayward thoughts of naive, every-man Jon (played excellently by Domhnall Gleeson) and his fantasy of becoming a great rockstar/musician. Jon lives in middle class suburbia, works a seemingly monotonous office job (like you or me) and generally feels a bit imprisoned by everything that might be deemed painfully "normal" in life. Enter the Soronprfbs, the unpronounceable name of the surrealist indie rockband fronted by the equally beguiling and eccentric Frank (played almost entirely via fake fiber-glass head by Michael Fassbender; an outstanding performance of pure body-language and child-like vocal drawl.) Jon very quickly believes he's found his golden ticket to fame in the form of the wide-eyed Frank, believing his madness and bizarre antics to be the calling card of artistic genius. But so too do his bandmates, not least of all - Jon believes - by Clara, Frank's girlfriend. Clara (the excellent, deadpan Maggie Gyllenhaal) could be mistaken for a cruel Yoko Ono parody; viciously controlling and protective of Frank and - much to Jon's disgust - unwilling to allow the band to "make it" and "reach a wider audience" as Jon chirps on numerous occasions. Clara wants to keep Frank hidden from the world and it's only when we begin to understand why does her and Jon's conflicting character arcs criss-cross wonderfully. Another supporting performance deserving of a warm mention is that of the tragic and undervalued Don, played with an anxious and barely contained sadness by Scott McNairy ('Killing them Softly') Understanding Don's character in particular is key to understanding the story as a whole, particularly in his wishes to "be Frank" as he says with a distant gaze on the dark horizon as the band venture to Ireland on a ferry.

The film is not without it's flaws. It threads in music-industry satire territory conquered long ago in much greater fashion by 'This Is Spinal Tap' and tonally it's set in a register that belongs to superior offbeat comedies such as 'Sideways' or 'Little Miss Sunshine'. But for what 'Frank' might lack in flair and precision, it more than makes up for in sheer tragic-comedy weight, delivering a third-act gut-punch that forces it's audience - along with it's gullible protagonist - to second guess what it is they've come to value so much in the enigmatic Frank. Jon, a devoted tweeter and blogger, secretly shares his band's antics with a growing online audience, later begging the question: In an age when the internet is used to laugh and sneer anonymously at the world's 'freaks', at what point are we willing to look deeper and attempt to understand the human inside? As Jon puts it, "what's going on in that head inside that head?".

- Simon Prunty.