"Terribly, Happy" is Crazy Good

Boy, what a pleasant surprise this was. During a film season like this one with dumbed-down stories, squeaky-clean characters and criminally-overrated Oscar contenders - from the moderately good (Up in the Air) to the cliche-laden bad (The Blind Side) and an atrociously ugly one (Precious) - it's a true treasure to find a film like Terribly Happy, one that's anything but conventional and breezy.

The less you know about the film before seeing it, the better. However, the story in effect revolves around a cop with a checkered past who's relocated to a small Danish town outside Copenhagen to serve as local sheriff. Despite the town's oddball citizens - who aggravate the newly imposed cop - the town is calm enough that nothing much ever happens...that is, until a domestic abuse situation between a married couple draws the cop inwards and forces him to deal with the weird townspeople head-on. Although the trailer doesn't invite that much allure, the film itself is an excellent manifestation of subverting audiences' expectactions with plot and character. At no point do you perceive where the narrative is going, nor who the protagonist really is. All we get are allusions to his past actions and, as the story progresses, glimpses of his true inner nature. Director Henrik Ruben Genz toys with neo-noir conventions in a very assured and satisfying manner: while the first act of the movie follows a more standard approach to the genre, Genz slyly shifts gears at the onset of act two and injects the story with clever twists and a darkly comedic tone, not to mention a rich and complex leading character that consistently surprises throughout the narrative. What is most satisfying about the film is that it is never overwhelmed with forced quirky noir tropes for the sake of unconventionality. Instead, out of its ingrained 'thriller' parameters, it leads us towards presupposed outcomes which covertly deviate into darker - and weirder - unconventional areas.

Tired of being disappointed by mediocre "Oscar-caliber" films? Don't want to waste $12.50 on a film that advertises Julia Roberts & Bradley Cooper falling in love, when in fact the latter turns out to be gay? Then the answer is this: Terribly, Happy is currently playing at the Angelika Film Center (18 West Houston Street).

Snubbed by a Rose

What I'm about to speak of isn't of much importance to me, but it's still something I want to publicly share - a situation I had last month that ties in to the incoming February 14th commercialized holiday....

One particular evening last December, I was finishing work at my part-time job and decided to kill some time browsing through random clips on YouTube. Ever since I was younger, I've liked to watch certain movie trailers over and over and be engaged with how each project was marketed and how they're able to stir up emotions in the viewer. On this specific night, however, I caught this trailer, which provoked great discomfort for me - not only because the premise and execution of it is downright obnoxious and superficial, but also because that damn song kept repeating in my head for hours. Since I was hopped up on numerous cups of coffee, I started going through a "mental rant" in which I tried to validate the overall message that the trailer posited:

{Beautiful people have lousy Valentine's Days, too! Even if they all have chiseled bodies, perfect smiles and dynamic, assertive careers - they still go through heartbreak and rejection!}

That, in a nutshell, is what this trailer exudes in its plot and in its all-too-perfect roster of characters. As I left work, I chuckled to myself at the superficiality of this movie. After all, it is very obviously 'packaged' to make lucrative business at the Box Office come Valentine's Day weekend (given its high-profile, ridiculously good-looking cast). Are we supposed to believe the trite concept that 'love is around the corner' for all people, and that random encounters are indeed fateful? Not a chance.

I got on the subway and rode it all the way up to Queens, standing next to the door throughout the trip and trying to rest my head to quell my drowsiness. Once the train crossed over to Queensboro Plaza, I opened my eyes and noticed a tall girl sitting in front of me. She repeatedly glanced in my direction but I thought nothing of it. However, once we went inwards into Queens, I could tell that her fleeting looks were no accident. At one point, I sauntered over to her side to move out of the way for the exiting passengers and I ended up standing next to her. I glanced down and noticed she was reading a pamphlet written in Spanish. On the next train stop, when the doors opened, a shivering cold breeze swept into the cart, and the mystery girl turned to me and made a comment about the freezing wind. There it is, I thought. She gave me an opening! For the next few minutes, I chatted with her about her Spanish literature (she had recently traveled to Spain and spoke the language well) and our fondness for Astoria. I rode with her for one more stop after mine, and at that point she asked me for my name. I gave it to her and she gave me hers - Rose.

Once we exited the station together, Rose waved me goodbye and proceeded to walk away, but I didn't move an inch. I walked up to her and blurted out an invitation to meet up sometime in the near future. She immediately accepted and I added her number to my phone. As I sauntered back to my apartment, confident and proud of my 'suave' deed, I thought back to the irritating trailer I had seen an hour before. Hmmm...perhaps there is some truth behind it. After all, I had not sought Rose out, but instead we were brought together by a chance encounter - a random meet-up in the subway. Two days later, before my trip back home to PR, I called Rose and checked to see if she was interested in having dinner with me when I returned from holiday break. She said "yes" and even asked me if I could bring her a postcard from the island...

Cut to a week later. I arrive back in NYC and call Rose to see if she's available for dinner. She amicably informs me that she's busy working, but that I should check back with her in the coming days. At this point, I sensed something was 'off,' but I didn't dwell on it. Then, when New Year's Eve arrived, I texted her to find out what her plans were, and she once again told me she was working that night. I casually told her to let me know if she wanted to meet up in the coming weeks, and in return, Rose replied with a dry "Happy New Years!" text. No allusion whatsoever to my invite. As soon as I received that text, I deleted Rose from my phone, and to this day, I haven't heard back from her.

What was that all about? Well, it really doesn't matter to me. She was, after all, just a random girl in the subway. However, it does intrigue me somewhat, for the fact that my views on what that trailer conveyed shifted almost 180 degrees just because of my casual interaction with a flirtatious girl. Earlier that night, I had fervently panned the trailer's superficial and sappy makeup and wholeheartedly rejected its message. Just two hours afterwards, however, I almost fully believed in the idea it was selling. Am I that gullible that my viewpoints on something can shift so rapidly because of a pleasant but fleeting experience? She was just a girl riding the subway! There was no sign whatsoever that Rose and I had anything in common, yet by the end of the night, I didn't find that cheesy trailer so cheesy (or inane). Albeit for a brief moment, this film was able to win me over just because a random girl had flirted with me and asked me for my name in a public place. For that split second, I was Topher/Ashton/Taylor - a guy who just so happened to meet a cute girl in a random way. However, once Rose subtly brushed me off, that 'bubble' burst. I reverted back to my original viewpoint and recognized the reality of it all: that love on Valentine's Day (or any day, for that matter) isn't about a cinematic encounter between two people in which time and space are inconsequential and in which both people immerse themselves in each other's dashing, polished good looks. In realistic terms, it's simply all about sharing common interests with someone you like or care deeply for.

Because, really...a flirtatious girl in the subway, more often that not, is just that. What should validate this commercialized holiday is the notion of companionship and shared interests (as opposed to a co-dependency between couples to enrich superficial needs). After all, picture this:

You're pushing eighty and having "early bird dinner" with a loved one at a restaurant. A waiter brings your partner a strawberry cheesecake, and you immediately reject it and tell the waiter, "I'm sorry, but he/she can't eat this. He/she is allergic to strawberries." By that point in time, superficiality is no longer prevalent. All that persists is a strong link between two people...

...and that is something Garry Marshall can NEVER take away from you.