strangerthanfiction

I love it when a film comes along that says something I’ve been screaming for years. “Stranger
Than Fiction” dares to tell artists that being pretentious and jaded simply for the sake of being
moody is stupid. Hooray!

Will Ferrell plays Harold Crick, a boring IRS man with a more boring and uneventful existence.
Emma Thompson is a popular but reclusive writer who is suffering writer’s block and cannot find a
way to kill off her main character, which is a trademark move in all of her books. It just so happens
that her main character this time around is a man named Harold Crick.

Every time she starts typing, Crick can hear her voice in his head. He has no idea where it’s coming
from. He thinks he’s going insane. Meanwhile, Thompson is getting some unwanted help from
Queen Latifah, who is supposed to work on the publisher’s behalf to get her book finished.

Crick can’t get a grip on this surreal situation. He finds that Thompson’s voice is not only inside his
every thought, but also reveals to him that he’s going to die soon. Crick employs the help of literary
professor Dustin Hoffman to solve the mystery of the voice in his head.

Director Marc Forster, the mind behind “Monster’s Ball,” really brings Ferrell into a new level of his
acting, creating a character that is serious and normal but whose situation is surreal and hilarious
in a dark comedy kind of way. Ferrell could become one of Hollywood’s great performers in the
future. The film moves at a beautiful pace with brilliant understated, realistic performances from the
entire cast.

To say much more is to give away a unique and compelling drama, but I admit I thought the movie
was going in one direction to pander to convention. Thankfully, the movie’s entire message
questions the legitimacy of conventions if they rob the world of positive things.

I know I’m not making much sense. You have to see this movie. “Stranger Than Fiction” is a unique
and enjoyable experience.