Happiness (1998) Dark Comedy Movie Review
Rating: 7/10
Key Points
Film Summary
This remains the most difficult movie I’ve ever seen, and that’s worth something. I wasn’t mentally prepared for the thing when I saw it however-many-years ago, and watching it again in 2014, I think I’ve decided that you can’t really be mentally prepared to see some of this.
It’s the polar opposite of elevator music, a work of art so dedicated to and consistent in its cynicism, so uncomfortable that it’s capable of making your ancestors squirm. An opening scene with that much Jon Lovitz is enough to make anybody uncomfortable.
You’re thinking, “Wait a second! This is a lot of Jon Lovitz! Is this supposed to be happening? Shit! Why is this much Jon Lovitz happening?” I wonder how many theater-goers walked out after seeing Jon Lovitz for that long. If that didn’t happen, I’d still be willing to bet that this has some kind of record for most walk-outs.
One masturbation scene would be enough to chase middle-aged ladies from the Bible Belt out, but this has a trio of masturbation sequences–Hoffman jizzing on a wall with an “Is your pussy all wet?”, Dylan Baker as one of the most disturbing characters you’ll ever see gratifying himself in the back of his car with a Kool magazine, and a final few minutes that somehow–almost magically–manages to be uplifting.
It’s almost like the characters are trapped inside of this movie, like they’re living out a punishment for crimes they did in other movies or something. It’s dark stuff, but the off color palette and the schmaltzy music give it the feel of an after-school special or a soap opera which makes the whole thing even more disturbing. At times, it works like a series of short jokes, complete with punchlines.
And you might laugh, but you’ll instantly–even if you’re completely alone–look around with the hope that nobody is watching you laugh. My favorite of these depraved characters might have Jared Harris’s Vlad with his “I like lesbian” claim and his killer version of “You Light Up My Life.” Ben Gazzarra’s in there, and Jane Adams (she’s got that weird-cute thing going), Lara Flynn Boyle, and Lila Glantzman-Leib play a trio of siblings with a relationship that is pretty difficult to watch.
Philip Seymour Hoffman’s not on the screen much at all, but disturbs when he does, neurotic incarnate. It was kind of like he was going for Milton in Office Space, but a Milton whose soul has been completely shattered and whose conscience is pissed off and drunk.
It’s the type of character Hoffman plays so much better than anybody else which for some reason is a sentence that makes me sad to type. Dylan Baker, unsettling because of how normal looking he is, gives a career-ruining performance as a pedophiliac father.
It doesn’t take long in this movie for every single word the guy says to creep you out, profoundly. He’s the character who should give us nightmares. “You’ll cum one day. You’ll see.” Every single conversation he has with his son feels like it should be from a horror movie. I really like the kid who plays the son, too.
His name’s Rufus Reed, and he hasn’t done much of anything since this, his first role. But he nails it whenever he says “Daaaaad” as he addresses his father, like he’s trusting the guy because that’s his role in life but knows in some inner part of his being that he’s frightened of the guy. “Ronald Farber says his pe@is is 11 inches long. Is that possible?” is probably not a line that I should have laughed at, but I wanted to ease the tension of this thing by laughing at something, having some other emotion than whatever I was feeling.
A Philip Seymour Hoffman Fest can take us to some really dark places.
