Frank

Director: Leonard Abrahamson

Writers: Jon Ronson, Peter Straughan

Starring: Michael Fassbender, Domnhall Gleeson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Scoot McNairy, Tess Harper

Runtime: 95 minutes

Certification: 15

Rating: 3⁄5

The opening lines of _Frank _are a mixture of odd noises and half-formed (and utterly atrocious) lyrics, providing an amusing and wry look at the plight of the artist in search of inspiration, and the vague sense of despair and frustration that arises from your apparent stroke of genius turning out to just be another piece of utter tripe.

Such is the existence confronting Domhnall Gleeson’s Jon, the semi-autobiographical representation of writer Jon Ronson (his experiences with Frank Sidebottom and his band being the inspiration for the entire story) in a small seaside British town. Until he happens to see the keyboard player for the Soronprfbs attempting to drown himself with the rest of the band watching, kicking off a chain of events that sees Jon invited to join the band in isolation as they attempt to record the first album, all while dancing around the mental health issues that plague each of them in different ways.

It’s that dalliance with serious issues that leaves Frank somewhat uncertain in tone, crashing between scarily serious moments, black comedy and outright surreal humour so fast it gets whiplash and has to spend the occasional drawn-out scene recovering. Much of the humour bears a deadpan streak, and a lot of it is genuinely funny (although in several cases it’s a case of laughter being the only way to process what’s happening on screen), playing well on the awkwardness and sheer absurdity of its premise and the events that follow.

It makes great use of a talented cast, with Michael Fassbender taking up the paper-mâché head (it’s almost the opposite of _Locke _in a way – there, only the main character was given a face, here everyone but the main character has one) and still imbuing it with an impossible degree of character. The face itself is utterly hilarious, with its blank, expressionless outlook combined with Fassbender’s physical control often making its mere presence comedy gold. Gleeson nails his characters transition from lonely outsider to delusional egotist, while Maggie Gyllenhaal and Scoot McNairy sink their teeth into roles that offer them a vast range of conflicting emotions to show off, as the film avoids toppling over into exploitation of mental illness by offering genuine sympathy to their respective plights.

The music is – as is perhaps to be expected from a film that delights in the wacky – wonderfully surreal and odd-ball, if surprisingly good for it (Jon’s attempts at song-writing aside), and the closing musical number manages to pack a surprising emotion punch considering its lyrical content. It’s perhaps a good representation of the film itself – deliriously off-beat, with no instant, obvious appeal, and yet weirdly alluring.