It takes a very special kind of actor to give a searingly intense performance opposite an artificial co-star. Thankfully Ryan Gosling is just such an actor. In Lars and the Real Girl, a formidable American comedy that should go down as one of the finest in years, Gosling plays Lars Lindstrom, a loner with a heart of gold that's been so badly broken he develops a delusional perception of an internet purchased sex doll. He names her Bianca. He concocts an extensive biography that includes previous work as a missionary and a tragic family history. Then he knocks on his brother's door one night (Paul Schneider plays the brother, Gus, and Emily Mortimer Gus' compassionate wife, Karin) and proceeds to tell him how he has met the woman of his dreams. Lars, who lives next door in the converted family garage, insists that Bianca stay with Gus and Karin since they are unmarried and she is deeply religious. The two are happy to oblige but when they meet Bianca for the first time it's more than just a slight shock.The screenplay by form "Six Feet Under" scribe Nancy Oliver is so much more than a one gag comedy. It's funny in small, giggle-worthy ways, but the real treat here is just how deeply she explores the psychological circumstances of Lars' delusion. In some moments we can laugh at the silliness of poor Lars pushing Bianca around in a wheelchair and speaking to her as a child does to an imaginary friend. And then in others we're struck by just how sad the situation is. It's not a joke. It's a serious mental illness. Patricia Clarkson enters as a concerned family doctor in the small town who doubles as a psychiatrist. She begins picking away at Lars' deep seeded depression and need for isolation. Also to his benefit is the arrival of a sweet and patient young co-worker named Margo (Thumbsucker's Kelli Garner) who makes her feelings for Lars quite obvious. Together, with the help of the whole town, Lars' family and friends slowly begin to ease him toward a realization of the truth by helping him to heal old wounds.
Lars and the Real Girl could have so easily been snatched up by The Farrelly Brothers and turned into an $80 million yukfest full of crude jokes involving silicone orrifices. Credit director Craig Gillespie (who makes his feature debut here) with nurturing the subtlety and brave spirit of Oliver's project with his beautiful photography and nuanced portraits of the film's characters in pensive moments. Rarely in comedy do we get direction focused on expressing the deepest psychological motivations of each character but Lars and the Real Girl is full of wonderfully quiet moments of grief and joy.
It's also no small feat that the film's stellar cast gives Gillespie footage that should be lingered upon and savored. The film opens with a longing look at a silent Gosling as Lars looking inward as he stares out at a new day. It's utterly empty of noise and clutter. It's simply the greatest actor of a generation baring the soul of one of film's most imaginative characters in years through tear streaked eyes and tightly wound body language. Gosling is masterful not because of anything greatly noticeable. Certainly in the film's most emotional moments he radiates pain through the screen. But what really makes him magical is what he does with silence and with minimal dialogue. He can say one thing, mean another with his eyes, and suggest something else with the way he scratches his head. He's perplexing and fascinating, a creator of characters so fully realized they come with the overwhelming contradictions and quirks of real live human beings. Among other things, Lars blinks too much. The more nervous he gets the more his eyelids start to flutter. It's small. You might miss it. But there it is. It's in small little nuances like this that the character comes to life. We get to feel as though we're discovering him in a way he doesn't even know himself and that we see him develop in ways that are not clear to him the way the are to us. It's not a performance designed to communicate a single emotion at a time. It's not a clear line from start to finish. It's layered with small touches, elusive in the way it's nearly impossible to clearly pin down the character's emotions. Gosling's performance reads so real that it's astounding to behold. And all this in a movie about sex dolls and the losers who love them? If that's not a classic, I don't know what is.
Grade: A
