If anything, Funny Ha Ha has surely set some sort of record in regards to the number of times a character in a film says that of either: "I don't know..." or "...I mean". The people in this film appear to be on some sort of delay, as if the things they're hearing from those directly in front of them are being relayed via satellite before they actually reach the ears of the beholder. Often, by the time someone has said something, it often sounds as if the person to whom they are speaking have just about replied to the prior remark. The film is an amateur piece shot on 16mm and on locations around the American city of Boston, a project both written and directed by Andrew Bujalski. It is a film peppered with exchanges of this ilk; a film depicting young adults aged between 18 and about 25 who can pass a driving test and be entrusted with answering phone calls at a business' reception, but whose emotions and ability to express themselves to their own demographic arrives with some difficulty.
Funny Ha Ha follows a young woman named Marnie (Dollenmayer), someone out of further education and knocking about looking to garner a partner; a job and do something about her fondness for drinking, which may or may not extent to maintaining such a habit. The girl is so open to options that, in what appears to be her most glorious moment of confusion in a film that carries with it a heavy air of spiralling in and out of everywhere at a fantastic rate, she even contemplates becoming a nun. Marnie has just been fired from a job; likewise in the film's key stakes, she has been hurt in the past by a relationship thus is wary of getting into a new one, in spite of having the meek desire to do so. We follow her ambling and stumbling into situations and scenarios. One of her friends is Rachel (Schaper), and she listens to what Marnie has to say – later they both end up in a restaurant with a larger network of Rachel's friends. Things don't seem to be going anywhere, less so in Marine's existence right now.
There is a boy called Alex (Rudder), who Marnie likes – a cocksure kid who wears jeans and enjoys his Nike trainers so much that he keeps them on indoors when lying on is bed. Alex keeps bad company; Marnie likes him for what appears to be this renegade image, but she's too good for him in spite of this fondness. Another boy is Mitchell, the polar opposite to Alex in that he's actually quite nice, but is too much of a nerd to be good enough for Marnie. Round and round it goes. Writer/director Bujalski casts himself as Mitchell, in what is a refreshing instance of someone in control casting themselves in an unflattering role: this is no ego trip, this is film making that's trying to be as honest as possible. After things break down with Alex, a lesser film might've just dropped her into a relationship with Mitchell because he's all that's left and audiences demand closure.
The film has this sense to it that everything just comes about by accident, as if those producing it are making it up as they go along. To this extent, the film is refreshing in its immense amount of change to the usual proceedings of depicting a young love triangle. I read the film is considered a part of the "mumblecore" movement, an American invention born out of the surge in independent American cinema of the late 1980s/early 1990s, when a series of American films won big in places such as Cannes in consecutive years and induced a number of American directors still producing today, as well as things of a more hardened realism - namely something like Dogme 95. This is not the film setting out to be the antithesis to an American blockbuster, it just so happens to be such a thing. It carries with it the traits of what might be considered a pretentious film, namely the long takes and the emphasis on the same thing over and over, but this is a long way from something like "Funny Games", whose drawn out shots and repetition of its thesis through a series of often uncomfortable sequences, for some, had it cross a proverbial line.
It's important, however, to note that for its air of originality, as well as its general aesthetic that can have the power to blind people into thinking they're seeing something better than what they are, the film has a very simple idea at its core. This is not the first film about young people of this demographic, nor is it the first about the relationships young people share with one another. For a film to be as striking in its naturality as Funny Ha Ha is, and regardless of what people think of that, it does at least get the most important thing right in its observations on life and existence at this age: the one who you love more than anyone else is the one whom you're never destined to be with, whereas the one who seems to like you more than anyone else just cannot cut it in the marital stakes when lined up beside you. There is an eerie authenticity to the film's proceedings, but an honest one.
Funny Ha Ha follows a young woman named Marnie (Dollenmayer), someone out of further education and knocking about looking to garner a partner; a job and do something about her fondness for drinking, which may or may not extent to maintaining such a habit. The girl is so open to options that, in what appears to be her most glorious moment of confusion in a film that carries with it a heavy air of spiralling in and out of everywhere at a fantastic rate, she even contemplates becoming a nun. Marnie has just been fired from a job; likewise in the film's key stakes, she has been hurt in the past by a relationship thus is wary of getting into a new one, in spite of having the meek desire to do so. We follow her ambling and stumbling into situations and scenarios. One of her friends is Rachel (Schaper), and she listens to what Marnie has to say – later they both end up in a restaurant with a larger network of Rachel's friends. Things don't seem to be going anywhere, less so in Marine's existence right now.
There is a boy called Alex (Rudder), who Marnie likes – a cocksure kid who wears jeans and enjoys his Nike trainers so much that he keeps them on indoors when lying on is bed. Alex keeps bad company; Marnie likes him for what appears to be this renegade image, but she's too good for him in spite of this fondness. Another boy is Mitchell, the polar opposite to Alex in that he's actually quite nice, but is too much of a nerd to be good enough for Marnie. Round and round it goes. Writer/director Bujalski casts himself as Mitchell, in what is a refreshing instance of someone in control casting themselves in an unflattering role: this is no ego trip, this is film making that's trying to be as honest as possible. After things break down with Alex, a lesser film might've just dropped her into a relationship with Mitchell because he's all that's left and audiences demand closure.
The film has this sense to it that everything just comes about by accident, as if those producing it are making it up as they go along. To this extent, the film is refreshing in its immense amount of change to the usual proceedings of depicting a young love triangle. I read the film is considered a part of the "mumblecore" movement, an American invention born out of the surge in independent American cinema of the late 1980s/early 1990s, when a series of American films won big in places such as Cannes in consecutive years and induced a number of American directors still producing today, as well as things of a more hardened realism - namely something like Dogme 95. This is not the film setting out to be the antithesis to an American blockbuster, it just so happens to be such a thing. It carries with it the traits of what might be considered a pretentious film, namely the long takes and the emphasis on the same thing over and over, but this is a long way from something like "Funny Games", whose drawn out shots and repetition of its thesis through a series of often uncomfortable sequences, for some, had it cross a proverbial line.
It's important, however, to note that for its air of originality, as well as its general aesthetic that can have the power to blind people into thinking they're seeing something better than what they are, the film has a very simple idea at its core. This is not the first film about young people of this demographic, nor is it the first about the relationships young people share with one another. For a film to be as striking in its naturality as Funny Ha Ha is, and regardless of what people think of that, it does at least get the most important thing right in its observations on life and existence at this age: the one who you love more than anyone else is the one whom you're never destined to be with, whereas the one who seems to like you more than anyone else just cannot cut it in the marital stakes when lined up beside you. There is an eerie authenticity to the film's proceedings, but an honest one.