Napoleon Dynamite
I had to see this movie in two parts. I got through about 2/3rds of it and it was so depressing I wasn't sure I was going to finish it. I'm glad I did, though, because the ending was sweet.
I just poked around looking for commentary on this movie, and what I find are "I laughed so hard I wet myself!" and "This is a terrible, terrible movie which makes fun of its characters. Anyone who laughs at this is just pretending to be cool." My own reaction, though, is that I knew these guys. Several reviews talked about how this is not real life, how nothing is ever that bad. But it is real life. I grew up around it. I think the people writing these reviews were either the Summers (the popular kids) or were too close to Napoleon's sadness to take it.
The chronology of the movie is odd. It could be set in my own high school days. So many little details were right, down to the way the window opened on the school bus. (Or maybe school buses are unchanged since my day.) The music was about right, and the fashion was right. The only clue I have as to the timing, really, is that a guy who is maybe 30 longs for 1982 when he was in high school. It's set in a very rural area, so I suppose the idea is that it's so isolated that it's just now getting the news of the 80s.
What I particularly liked about this movie is that somehow, against all surface odds, it gave me insight into these guys. There was almost nothing going on on the outside, but sure enough, plenty was going on inside. One of the things these guys did was talk whilst barely moving their mouths. Incredibly irritating, but now I see that that's a physical manifestation of fear of saying the wrong thing. The lack of social skills isn't for lack of trying. Napoleon thinks way too highly of his drawings, but that's the best he can do at that point, and when we all were little, we thought our color blobs and stick figures were worthy of the MOMA. (I did, at least. I painted "abstracts" in kindergarten. Intentionally.) He tells grandiose, obvious lies--well, that one I can't get past, having had to smile and nod and pretend I didn't notice for several guys I dated back then. He and Kip come up with ridiculous schemes for self-improvement, with visions of becoming martial arts masters or time machine travellers--but at least they're trying. Far from having given up on life, they're trying to do something with it; it's just that I personally don't approve of what they attempt or have hope for their chances. But then, that could easily said of me and, for instance, knitting...
I was a misfit, but I was lucky. I had a group of other misfits to hang out with, and we all felt awfully superior to the other mundane folks. Outgrouping, as R would say. These guys, these awkward, terrified guys, didn't have insulation from the "normal" kids like I did, and yet they toughed it out, day after day.
I had a terrible crush on someone like Napoleon in high school. When I started dating him, his social skills seemed so far from mine that I couldn't deal with it. Of course, that was when boys were just supposed to know what to do and it was absurd to think of asking for anything I wanted or needed. Anyway, he was a year ahead of me, but I swear he showed up at my graduation. This fellow who looked faintly familiar came up and said hi when we were all standing around after the ceremony. I responded politely (without having the balls to ask him who the hell he was) and he walked off with a bittersweet smile. I hope he's found his niche in life. In the end, he was cooler than me...he introduced me to RHPS, including trying to teach me all the audience responses...he played the B52s for me over the phone (over the phone just didn't work for playing music; I was forced to sit there in silence until he would finally pick up the receiver again), and that was the first time I heard them, too. I don't think I'd know "Has anybody seen a dog dyed dark green?" if it weren't for him.
High school sucked.
I also found it interesting that the lead actors and, as far as I could tell, the writer and director are all at Brigham Young University, an institution that I wouldn't expect to produce people with such keen insight, unafraid to paint a less-than-perfect portrait of life in the heartland. I know that's prejudiced; I suppose I just thought that BYU was as rigid about thought and behavior as Heritage U, for example.
Enough babbling. I welcome your insights into the movie.