Factotum Review
Once in a while, one happens upon a director/adapted writer pairing in a movie that achieves something close to nirvana, as the two artists' voices perfectly complement each other. That's the case with this offbeat seriocomedy from Norwegian cause-celebre Bent Hamer (Kitchen Stories), who cinematizes the 1975 novel of the same name by skid row poet Charles Bukowski. Prior to this film, one might never have thought of Hamer and Bukowski going hand-in-hand, but seeing it onscreen, it all makes perfect sense: both share the same low key matter-of-factness, the same deadpan absurdist humor, the same ironic view of life. What Hamer doesn't naturally have is Bukowski's obscenity, and that doesn't change here: for the most part, he keeps things clean. Instead of raunchiness, he taps into the author's overlooked but hypnotic strands of warmth and humanity; though unexpected, it works well. As Hank Chinaski, an alcoholic writer who wanders into a series of random occupations and gets terminated from every one, Matt Dillon is a less grungy author surrogate than Mickey Rourke, or (god knows) Ben Gazzara; his dramatic interpretation is also different. Unlike the others, Dillon's approach involves internalizing his emotions in lieu of acting outward; he comes across as brooding, complex, somber - a detached observer - and the contrast between the stilted exterior and the impassioned insights that we get on the soundtrack (as the actor reads long patches of Bukowski's literature) neatly convey the psychological and emotional role that writing played for the author, as an outlet for his soul. Yet Hamer wisely underplays the sentiment as well, very carefully avoiding saccharine emotion; much of the feeling that does exist in the picture emerges from the efforts of Lili Taylor, who is never less than completely endearing as Chinaski's lover and soulmate. Hamer pulls much of the humor from the weird, occasionally crazy circumstances that Chinaski finds himself in (such as a stint at a pickle factory, and a riotously funny VD sequence). But beneath it all is an infectious, relatable sadness about the despair of being human. This may or may not be the finest cinematization of its author to date. But it at least sits on par with both Barfly and Tales of Ordinary Madness in its ability to capture Bukowski's voice and yet retain a distinctive style of its own. As such, the film represents a considerable achievement. Rovi
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