Comfort and Joy

Bill Forsyth is one of those quiet, under-the-radar filmmakers who somehow managed to carve out a career making quirky, underplayed, heartfelt comedies that don’t really stand out in any obvious way, yet somehow manage to assert themselves as unique pieces of art all the same.

Comfort and Joy is his follow-up to critical fave Local Hero; though nowhere near as focused (Local Hero had a universal, political subtext that gave the film focus) it definitely ventures further out into left field with a storyline that twists and turns in confusing, but amusing ways. Forsyth doesn’t dwell too much on motives or the psychology of his characters- instead, he focuses on the quirks every human being has, playing them for warm laughs. In a Forsyth film, even the bad guys aren’t so bad.

Somehow, he starts with a break-up movie and ends up with mobster lampoon- one involving ice cream trucks. All of this revolves around Allan “Dickey” Bird, a morning disc jockey and local Glasgow celeb who, despite his celebrated status as protagonist, isn’t all that likable or interesting as a person. He’s not not likable or interesting, however- a classic Forsyth trait. He’s just enough of an enigma to keep us interested, and the film manages to make his comedic mishaps our own.

Forsyth doesn’t seem to need much out of his films- they feel light flights of fancy, existing mostly to give us a nice evening out in the theater and a gentle reassurance that, though homo sapiens are a wacky species, they’re interesting enough to deserve telling quirky stories of. What makes Forsyth’s work worthwhile is that it’s the flip-side to the dreck that Hallmark and Lifetime Movies dig up- here’s a genuine point of view made by a guy who genuinely loves people. Comfort and Joy is anything but formulaic, and it’s that refreshing embrace of humanity that makes it worthwhile.