Frank

This terrific and sublime experience, and strikingly original film, is mandatory watching for the adventurous viewer.

A delightful, oddball surprise.

Mr. Abrahamson’s main achievement, enabled by the sensitive and resourceful cast, is to find a tone that is funny without flippancy, sincere without turning to mush.

Off-beat and punk-spirited.

Here’s an eccentric tragicomedy, with music, built to play like gangbusters at Austin’s South by Southwest music-movie fanboy/fangirl festival.

Walking a line between droll comedy and a darker, more unsettling drama that the filmmakers aren’t quite up to, Frank is an entertaining curio with flashes of inspiration. That’s also a pretty good description of Frank’s music.

The mash-up of elements combine with a singularly unpleasant roster of characters to create a work of genuinely off-putting quirkiness.

[SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers.]

A young musician, struggling to find his voice, backs into a gig as spot keyboard player for an eclectic art rock band whose lead singer wears a large papier-mâché mask at all times. Though his first performance is a disaster, the fresh recruit is invited to join the group in an open-ended rehearsal / recording session / retreat somewhere in remote Ireland. There, the close quarters and limited social opportunities force them to hone their sound and face the tumult of adding a new member. Having played with a number of bands myself, I can recognize and relate with Frank’s depiction of a dysfunctional group creative process. Getting any number of smart, devoted, protective artistic types to agree on a direction can be an exercise in futility, especially without someone decisive and commanding at the helm. Frank, he of the big fake head, is a musical savant who can pick the most savory bits from an idea, adapting and expanding their essence into something rich and meaningful. An essential component of any successful group, but not necessarily what you need in a leader. That hasn’t been a problem for these guys so far, because they’re content to live in a van and essentially play music for themselves. When the new guy pushes them towards a broader audience, Frank’s thrilled, but the rest of the crew is skeptical. Doubly so when someone mentions toning down their sound. Are we trying to be radio-friendly now? I didn’t sign on for that. Building a great band is hard. It takes a lot of stale repetition. Personalities will rub wrong. There will be jealousy and gatekeeping as ideas are overlooked or discarded. And, even if you get over those humps, there’s no guarantee you’ll find the right ears or that your tenuous private alliance will survive the spotlight. Most of Frank’s band is damaged goods. Frank is damaged goods. Their faults feed the music, but for some that’s not a healthy loop. We see that in full effect during the film’s third act, where everyone’s cracks and faults are stressed and stretched, and suddenly it’s not such a fun ride. Delightfully obtuse at its best, I much preferred Frank’s first hour, where the band is fighting to create and not simply fighting. Its latter explorations of mental illness and social misunderstanding can be poignant, but very drab. After sixty minutes of fraught color, it's difficult to appreciate something so bleak.

Confusing at times and relentlessly bizarre, the film is successful in showing how artists can be consumed by their craft, along with giving Domhnall Gleeson another opportunity to display his engaging acting skills.

I felt nothing but contempt for the movie characters and Frank in particular, the theme of the characters appeal seems to be "look at how weird and quirky we are" overall.. I if you're looking for an enjoyable film.. Do yourself a favor and avoid this title. The 3 out of 10 is for the time when someone got stabbed and then hit by a car.

Whatever you do don't see this, but if you are forced at gunpoint to see Frank, don't pay 16$ at the Arclight. The movie never settles on a voice, but I think was supposed to be tragicomic? Quirky? Is that the word? Painfully boring? Yes, that. Can Maggie Gyllenhall stop singing already? I liked when the one guy died, spoiler, because it meant one less inane character was around to babble inanely. Go watch Paris Texas instead (they mention it in the movie). When this is on netflix instant in a month, still download it illegally.