Harmony Korine Returns To Form With The Wonderfully Weird 'Mister Lonely'

We’ve written so many pieces about “Mister Lonely” and each one of them has collected some small thought on our feelings about the film that we almost think a full-on review is a moot point, but we’ll try and give it a shot regardless.

Though, after more than a few long-winded reviews (“Iron Man,” ‘Sarah Marshall‘) we thought we’d try and be economic for once.

His first film in almost nine years, Harmony Korine’s “Mister Lonely” is almost immediately characterized by a softer tone than the purposefully provocative films of his past (near fuck-you challenges to audiences daring them to sit through them in their entirety, “Gummo” especially).

Perhaps it’s because Korine himself had to crawl back from the muck, but he’s much more visibly affectionate to his new cast of freaks.

Diego Luna and Samantha Morton star as celebrity impersonators (Jacko and Monroe) and lost souls who randomly meet in Paris and then sojourn off to a celeb impersonating commune in Scotland where the odd story begins (but only after Luna gets to dance for the elderly in a too-hilarious old-folks-home sequence).

There’s tangents with parachuting nuns saved by the power of prayer, director (and Korine friend) Werner Herzog as a Panamanian preacher and a quick cameo by “endurance magician” David Blane (who just recently set the Guinness World Record for being totally ghey), but the fable mostly stays grounded on the innocuous living situation of this misfit congregation (there’s a Madonna, a James Dean, a Little Red Riding Hood played by the director’s wife, etc.,). They sadly kill their sickly livestock, they throw opulent dinner parties and put on plays; there’s no major arcs per se, but its as close to a linear narrative as we’ve ever seen from Korine (his other films were arguably nothing more than vignettes strewn together).

Mostly it’s a weirdly oblique autobiographic story about self-discovery through the eyes of Luna (who’s some kind of innocent, nave Korine stand in). Is it all some bizarre fairytale metaphor for the director’s lost time in the scary woods? Sure, but more importantly its told in a sweet, non-judgmental and sincere manner far removed from the bile and contemptuousness of the directors past.

Trading jarring provocation with enigmatic lyrical pastoralia, the new tone suits the director well and there’s some heavenly moments of minimalism buttresed by an incredibly sonorous score by J.Spaceman and the Sun City Girls.

Its a dream-like salvation parable to be sure and it doesn’t neccesarily make that much sense, but that’s far beside the point. Its an affectionate allegory, full of joy, melancholy, humor and empathy. Certainly the beginning of a new chapter for a filmmaker with tons of promise. [A]

OK, that wasn’t that short but we tried. Oddly enough this review was written on a blackberry on a New York subway opposite Leo Fitzpatrick from “Kids” (the star of Korine’s inaugural script). The film opens in very limited release this weekend.