That’s how thin “Bernie” is. The film. Not the
man. Bernie Tiede, is quite thick in the belly, as played by Jack Black, and as
seen in real-life photos and video during the closing credits.
Tiede was an
assistant funeral home director during the 1990s in tiny Carthage, Texas, (even
the name is ironic). Clearly gay in his every manner, Tiede became a local
celebrity, a mascot if you will, to the good ol’ GOP-voting Christian folk there.
Not just for his artistry of making the dead look good, but in his endless dedication
to church, the local theater, baseball clubs, and his undying loyalty to the town’s widows. He even came to befriend the town’s one Ms. Scrooge
(Shirley MacLaine), a vile control freak badger, set off her
leash after the death of her wealthy husband. This is where the thrust of the film kicks in. She became Tiede’s Sugar Momma,
he her Errand Boy. Things got ugly, and Tiede shot her. Four times. The town
stood strong: Behind Bernie. Old lady? Fuggedaboudit.
Shocking? Yes. But Richard Linklater, directing
and co-writing, would rather laugh at the wild audacity of it all, and edits in
interviews with real-life locals to the mix, showing the town as mentally lost as
Tiede is in the “movie” portion. The tone is so broadly farcical nothing
sticks. With Black’s eternal
wink-wink personality and mincing gay lisp, I never grasped whether or not trapped-in the-closet Tiede
was sincere and full of love, or playing people, full of rage, or some place
between. Wearing a mask if you will, to go all Batman here.
Person after person in those interviews dismiss Tiede as “queer,” or
insists “he can’t be gay,” he’s too nice and decent. Surely he heard that awful
talk, surely it hurt, and made him mad. Or did it? Did he bury his pain. We don’t know. As portrayed,
Tiede has all the depth of Ziggy, to bring up another roundish guy.
More so,
there’s a strong, unpleasant whiff that Linklater, a Texan himself, is pulling
a nasty fast-one on those interviewees, inviting them friendly-like to talk on
camera and then editing their words to appear as rubes and hicks, or borderline
senile. Were these people misled? I'd sure as hell would think, “Yes.”
“Fargo,” a far more dark comic tale of murder,
had infinitely more emotion, and it’s fictional. The comparison is silly, that film is so sickly brilliant, and brilliant, but I shall not digress. In this tale, an old lady died, for real, and we
get nothing. There’s no sense of loss here, mixed in with the comedy. Any sense
of irony is lost. MacLaine, dropping a racist tirade as the old lady, makes it all too easy. Too neat. Ehhh.
Matthew McConaughey -- God bless him, is he becoming a character actor now, no more rom-coms? -- lifts the film as high as he can as a self-righteous,
but right nonetheless, ADA who is dismayed at the turn of events. Yes, he’s also
spinning comedy gold, but he’s also the only one asking, how would you react? Bernie, or the lady? C+
