COMFORT AND JOY Movie Review

It could be that there's a logical explanation for what makes Scottish director Bill Forsyth's comedies so exceptionally engaging and strangely moving, but I prefer to think that his talent is as magical as the stories he tells. In his 1984 Comfort and Joy, Forsyth tells the tale of a Glasgow disk jockey whose personal life is falling apart—and whose job hardly provides the needed solace—until he finds himself in the unexpected position of mediator in a war between rival ice cream vendors named Mr. McCool and Mr. Bunny. How Forsyth manages to keep such a plot from veering off into either pointlessness or gooey sentimentality is a part of his mystery and appeal, but after 20 minutes or so we simply accept, gratefully, our presence in the writer/director's magical, miniature world. Bill Patterson plays the bleary-eyed, dawn-patrol DJ Alan “Dickie” Bird with a resigned, cynical hopelessness that feels completely honest; when his ice cream adventure begins, his willingness to get involved seems logical and right—like David Hemmings's need to solve a mystery in Blow-Up. Forsyth makes his films from the plot elements that other directors might throw away, and, as in kinds of “found art,” he sees beauty in much of the human folly that could be considered ridiculous in the hands of less observant directors. When Forsyth's cooking, as he is in Local Hero, Housekeeping, and Comfort and Joy, you nod with the recognition that these decent and wounded characters are all on the right track, even though the track itself may be far from the beaten path of traditional, plot-driven movies.

NEXT STOP … Local Hero, Breaking In, Big Night

1984 (PG) 93m/C GB Bill Paterson, Eleanor David, Clare P. Grogan, Alex Norton, Patrick Malahide, Rikki Fulton, Roberto Berrardi; D: Bill Forsyth; W: Bill Forsyth; C: Chris Menges; M: Mark Knopfler. National Society of Film Critics Awards '84: Best Cinematography. VHS USH