Michael Fassbender: Frank Exposes the Gulf Between the Brilliant and the Rest of Us (movie review)

MIAMI NEW TIMES
By Amy Nicholson Thursday, Aug 28 2014



Frank never takes off the head. But how does he eat, brush his teeth, or shave, Jon asks? Replies Soronprfbs' manager (Scoot McNairy): "You're just going to have to go with this." So we do. Director Lenny Abrahamson frames the film as a millennial myth, sealing the band away in a remote cabin in Ireland to record its first album, which sounds like whale noises, acid freak-outs, and the B-52s. (Composer Stephen Rennicks may be a genius himself.) Isolated among the trees, Frank walks tall — all Fassbender has to act with is his spine — and unnerves Jon with his ability to compose a song as easily as breathing. An off-the-cuff ode to a strand of fabric becomes a ditty worthy of prime Paul McCartney. He's no gimmick — he just looks like one — and like Jon, we're torn between wanting to share his gifts with the world and the looming fear that the world has become so cynical that it will write him off as a joke.

Wrested from the forest and steered at Jon's request to the streets of Austin's South by Southwest festival, Frank looks smaller and stupider — no better than the twee ­ukulele starlets and a whole lot less accessible. The real-world detour is grating, as are Jon's frequent tweets about the band, but that they cheapen the alienness of the film's first half is kind of the point. As much as we might wish they weren't, our brains are aligned with the small-minded and corruptible Jon: Our culture has so merged music and commerce that we can't be in the thrall of splendor without wondering how to market it. Even Frank himself falls sway to fame, muttering about YouTube, which he calls "secret camera," as if it's a mystifying cargo cult. Only Gyllenhaal's angry art-rock girl is aware of the fragility of his mental health: Frank doesn't wear the head because he can; he wears the head because he must.

Look closely at Frank's mask and you'll spot two plaster bandages by his nose, a hint of a life that's taken some lumps. Study Fassbender's limbs and see one of the best physical performances of the decade. His face never changes, but he has visible soul. In small movements — the twitch of a hand, a wobble under a door frame, a beer, and straw held uselessly by his painted mouth — Fassbender gives us glimpses of what Frank's isolating genius has cost him. Would we, too, sacrifice normal pleasures for a chance at eternal greatness? Or would we rather suffer alongside Jon, cursed with the heart-melting torture of knowing that the gods of music will never love us in return?


READ THE FULL REVIEW HERE: http://www.miaminewtimes.com/2014-08-28/film/frank-movie-review/

SXSW Review: 'Frank,' Starring Michael Fassbender Wearing a Giant Fake Head, Totally Rocks

TOH
BY BETH HANNA
MARCH 11, 2014 12:53 PM

Michael Fassbender and Domhnall Gleeson in 'Frank'

In Lenny Abrahamson’s lovely film ‘Frank,’ Jon (Domhnall Gleeson) is a would-be musician who works an office job by day. It’s possible he doesn’t have a lot of talent.

He struggles with trite lyrics in his head and with equally trite tunes on his keyboard. One day he happens to be on the beach at the right moment (“right” being relative, mind you) when the keyboardist for an eccentric pop band is attempting to drown himself. Thus Jon is invited to become the new keyboardist. He heads up to a bucolic Irish cottage to help record a new album with the band, which includes Don (Scoot McNairy), Clara (Maggie Gyllenhaal) and the mysterious if affable Frank (Michael Fassbender), who wears a gigantic, smiley helmet-mask over his face and apparently never takes it off.

What seems like the opportunity of a lifetime turns out to be much different than that, as Jon discovers that one or more members in the band may have legitimate problems. This is where Abrahamson’s film pushes beyond the typical band-movie tropes and becomes a moving portrait of artistic passion on the verge of madness and complete dysfunctionality. It’s also very funny, sometimes in a light-hearted way, and often in a darker way.

As Jon slowly realizes his bandmates are bonkers, he’s also busily at work attempting to transition them from obscurity to internet fame. He tweets about their progress on the album (his Twitter followers slowing going up), he posts videos on YouTube, and eventually nabs an invite for them to play at -- dun da DUN -- the South by Southwest Festival.

What I found fascinating is the connection Abrahamson draws between our internet age of audience engagement and the means by which bands, films, whatever attempt to draw attention and a fanbase. We live in a highly distracted culture that often necessitates gimmicks and stunts to attract followers, page hits, video views, what have you. Frank’s gigantic helmet would indeed seem like a stunt, as do a number of other things that play out in the film. But is it? Or is it the elephant in the room suggesting something much more concerning going on?


READ MORE HERE: http://blogs.indiewire.com/thompsononhollywood/frank-review-sxsw-michael-fassbender-lenny-abrahamson

Sundance Review: ‘Frank’ Starring Michael Fassbender, Domhnall Gleeson & Maggie Gyllenhaal

INDIEWIRE
BY RODRIGO PEREZ
JANUARY 18, 2014 11:06 AM



Are some diamonds in the rough so special they can only exist on the fringes? When a rare species enters the ecosystem of the mainstream, do its fragile, sensitive needs break down amongst the polluted elements around it? These are some of the ideas expressed in “Frank,” an off-the-wall and terrific paean to the misfits and freaks of the world, their dreams, visions and togetherness.

In a small, quaint English town, the naïve, ginger-haired dreamer Jon (Domhnall Gleeson) lives a placid, but utterly charmless life. A cubicle drone, he tweets out utterly banal thoughts (“Panini with cheese and ham #livingthedream”), but Jon’s waking life is but waiting moments in between the songs he’s constantly composing in his head. A wannabe musician, Jon has zero outlet for his little songs and quietly yearns for something more. Right on cue, as if the antenna of the world is finally listening, Jon’s universe is transformed when he accidentally meets a strange, dysfunctional psych-rock outsider band (think a Shaggs-y version of the Velvet Underground meets Captain Beefheart and Daniel Johnston), the unpronounceable and cult-like Soronprfbs, who have lost their keyboardist to madness (trying to drown himself on a frigid English beachfront no less). With the band in town for a gig, Jon offhandedly offers his keyboard skills (he can play F, C & A), and much to his surprise, the band’s unhinged and loony manager Doug (Scoot McNairy), gives the young lad an impromptu chance to fill in for the evening. It’s a bit of a disaster, but Jon is invited to join the band anyhow. And when the malfunctioning, ramshackle group retreats to a cabin in the woods in Ireland to record a new album, their adventure begins. Guileless and way out of his depth, the experience is initially transformative to Jon, but eventually begins to take on a much darker edge.

Always jamming with wild, feral abandon, Soronprfbs consists of: Frank (Michael Fassbender), the damaged, Syd Barrett-like musical genius of the group who suffers from an “above board” medical condition that maintains he must wear a papier-mâché visage over his head at all times; Clara (a scene-stealing Maggie Gyllenhaal), the belligerent and humorless synth/theremin/noisemaker; Baraque (Francoise Civil), the French-only speaking bassist/guitarist; and the aloof Nana (multi-instrumentalist Carla Azar of Autolux, collaborator with PJ Harvey, Jack White), the Moe Tucker-like thumping drummer.

while some will focus on the conceit of Michael Fassbender wearing a papier-mâché head for much of the film, and some of the odder elements of the movie, you'll likely be too caught up in the deeply inventive, playful and idiosyncratic film to give it much thought. And though some pundits may claim that “Frank” may just be too strange for the average moviegoer, those with at least a working sense of modern day music and the struggles of artists should easily relate and empathize. The bizarrely brilliant “Frank” demonstrates that quirkiness need not be a four-letter word in the language of movies. It certainly won’t be for everyone, but this terrific and sublime experience, and strikingly original film, is mandatory watching for the adventurous viewer.  [A]


READ MORE HERE: http://blogs.indiewire.com/theplaylist/sundance-review-frank-starring-michael-fassbender-domhnall-gleeson-maggie-gyllenhaal-20140118