Stranger Than Fiction

Stranger Than Fiction, when I first heard about the premise of the story upon its theatrical release last fall, reminded me very much of the comedy sketch from the old 1970s “Carol Burnett Show”. In that segment, Ms. Burnett was an author pecking away at a novel, while her characters (portrayed by Harvey Korman and Vickie Lawrence, I believe) did everything she typed. And if she backspaced or, worse yet, crumpled a piece of paper (remember–this was before the PC!), the real comedy high-jinks ensued.

It was a hilarious idea then, and now “Stranger Than Fiction” takes that notion and turns it into a full-blown “what if?” dramedy with a strong root in reality. (I should note that the film is not based upon the Carol Burnett Show–it’s from an original screenplay by Zach Helm.)

Harold Crick (Will Ferrell) is your average, everyday, middle-aged taxman. He gets up every morning, brushes his teeth, put his pants on one leg at time, catches the city bus to the office, and…you get the idea. Normal. Boring. Nothing exciting ever happens to him until one day when he starts hearing a voice (Emma Thompson). It’s not just any voice–it’s narrating his every move. Unlike the aforementioned comedy sketch, he does something and, simultaneously, the narrator describes it. Sure, the things the British clip’s detailing are mundane, but still: Harold is freaked out.

Seeking psychiatric assistance, even though he does not believe he’s insane, Harold pays a visit to a shrink (played by the diminutive Linda Hunt…a shrink. Get it? Yes, that’s the sly style of humor in “Stranger Than Fiction”–you will not, rest assured, see Ferrell running naked down the street, driving a racecar with a cougar in the passenger seat, or falling flat on his face). She advises him that a voice in his head means he’s schitzo, and he quietly but firmly disagrees.

He’s then sent to the offices of a preeminent professor of literature (Dustin Hoffman) who understands that sometimes life is indeed stranger than fiction, and sets out to help Harold find the narrator. Of course, anyone would want to know who’s writing the story of their life even as they live it, but Harold is actually desperate because, as the voice said, “Little did he know…”. Little did he know is never, ever good.

There’s a romantic subplot going on (involving Maggie Gyllanhaal), and we do meet the novelist and her no-nonsense assistant (Queen Latifah), but the less you know going in, the better. (And, just as you should never skip ahead to read whodunit at the end of a mystery novel, you should also refrain from watching the extras on this DVD until you’ve viewed the main attraction.)