Brigsby Bear
Brigsby Bear is not a movie for everyone. The premise alone will scrape off a certain number of people. However, for those who are willing to take the leap, there hides an extremely heartwarming story of recovery from trauma, finding one’s joy, building new family and friends, and even reconciliation.
Given the creative influence of SNL alum Kyle Mooney, as both writer and star, and the producing talents of famous comedic teams Lord and Miller (The Lego Movie, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, etc.) and Samberg, Taccone, and Schaffer (aka The Lonely Island) one might expect this to be a cult comedy with laugh out loud moments but with a sensibility that isn’t for everyone. In actuality, following in the footsteps of the early 2000s indie film boom, Brigsby Bear is more of a quirky comedy drama whose jokes are rarer and more mixed into a serious story of identity and trauma.
Perhaps the greatest strength of the movie is in its script and story. There is so much warmth in its handling of its core subject, a man who was stolen in infancy from his real parents, kept in isolation, and lied to for the bulk of his life about both his own identity and the world at large, that it kind of amazed me. No one is really mean spirited or cruel to Kyle Mooney’s James. Everyone genuinely wants to help. The conflict, instead, comes from the disconnect between those people trying to do their best and what James, perhaps, actually needs. Over-eager parents trying to make up for lost time by wanting to do all the things James missed out on, without appreciating that his world has been shattered and it needs to be rebuilt a bit before he starts trying all these new things. A police detective who wants to be the bridge between the old life and the new but without tools to help James understand his new reality. The younger sister, who you think might be resentful of this new stranger in her life, or her friends, who take an interest in James’ story and his obsessions in a way you think might turn mocking or sinister, are all really just genuine, caring, and interested. Only the psychologist, ironically, acts in a manner that makes you question their compassion, but in their own way it is clear they still want the best for him. Hell, even the adoptive parents that stole him and sequestered him from the world loved him deeply in the twisted way that made sense to them. This makes for a surprising movie that zigs when you think it might zag, but also one that feels like a big comforting blanket that reminds you of the humanities better angels.
It is also a kind of tribute to film making and the power of creative expression, with a particular focus on the kind of DIY micro budget stuff you do when you’re young; in high school for fun, as part of a 24 hour film festival, etc.. This puts it somewhere closer to the world of Son of Rambow or Be Kind Rewind, than State and Main or The Player in terms of both its relationship to, and its portrayal of, the art of filmmaking. In my opinion, this uncynical, almost naive, approach to its central art form only adds to its charm. Like the aforementioned Son of Rambow and Be Kind Rewind, it is always nice to have a movie about making movies that seems to still like the act of making movies, without presenting it in an overly self-aggrandizing way (Mank, though not a bad movie, comes to mind here).
For me, if I had to pick one weak spot, it was Kyle Mooney as an actor. His portrayal of James is not the nuanced, layered reality one might have hoped for, ideally. He displays more range than perhaps his schtick on SNL would have led you to believe, but at times his performance was rather one note. Sweet, but one note. The rest of the performances were quite strong, even from the kids, and Mooney’s fish out of water awkwardness works well enough for the lead roles quirks that it really doesn’t hurt the movie much. Also, casting Mark Hamill as both a character and a voice talent, given his impressive career in both live action and voice over work, was a stroke of genius.
As a freshman effort, and as a quirky indie dramedy, Brigsby Bear is great. It is a warm-hearted meditation of trauma and recovery, a love letter to creativity and movie making (with a sort of, I have a barn, let’s put on a play attitude), and one of the best takes on the upsides of obsessive fandom since Galaxy Quest.
Would Recommend: If you love quirky indie films about DIY filmmaking.
Would Not Recommend: If you don’t like oddball premises and tonally mixed up dramedies.