Jan. 13, 2010 - Issue #743: Broken Embraces

DVD Detective

BIG FAN

Robert D. Siegel's Big Fan is a blunt, intriguing character study

When a film begins with its hero repeating the line "I can't tell you how sick I am," it's fair to wonder where the sympathies of its auteur lie. Especially when that particular auteur is Robert D. Siegel, former editor-in-chief of The Onion, a publication that, however sharply it observes American behaviour, could hardly be called charitable towards the subjects of its satire (not that it should be, of course). And truthfully, notwithstanding Patton Oswalt's very layered, egoless performance as Paul, the religous-fervour-level New York Giants fan at the middle of Big Fan, Siegel doesn't seem to have much more than a tolerance for his chubby, deluded blowhard.

To a degree, I guess, that doesn't matter, but it's awfully hard to create a complete portrait coming from a place of derision. Compare, say, Wes Anderson's downright indulgent treatment of his cast of eccentrics (or, for that matter, Anderson collaborator Noah Baumbach's balanced-though-puncturing take on his blowhard father in The Squid and the Whale) to the ugly, caricature qualities of Jared Hess's Napoleon Dynamite: it may be possible to get laughs (in ND's case, cheap laughs) out of ceaseless contempt, but for drama to work we need some kind of tension and sympathy, which few people feel for a parody.

But Big Fan is the rare film that manages to feel well-rounded while palpably disapproving of its character: Siegel puts the observational eye of a satirist to work and then veers off into a more sedate, darker direction, ending with something like The King of Comedy for the sports-nut set, a character study into a madness whose slightly more controlled forms are all-too-pervasive in our society.

Paul Aufiero is the self-professed Giants' biggest fan, and this is the rare case where an auto-assigned title might be right. The aforementioned line comes from one of his dutifully crafted rants to his local radio call-in show, near-nightly affairs that proclaim Giants dominance, razz fans from other cities and keep his mother awake. A large part of Paul's obsession comes, maybe naturally, from just how shitty his life seems to be: he lives with his hectoring mother, who reminds him that his only girlfriend is his hand (and she might be his most understanding relative), he works a lousy job as a nighttime parking attendant, although it gives him time to craft his screeds and his only friend seems to be a slightly-dim fellow-obsessive, someone to praise him for his warmed-over invective and watch the games with in the parking lot of Giants stadium, since neither can afford seats.

That last scene encapsulates a lot of the conflicted view that Siegel has of Paul. The two friends hang out at the pre-game tailgate party, tossing a football and making merry, but end up with a television plugged into a car's cigarette lighter on the outskirts of the stadium. On the one hand, it's a sly aside on how much professional sports teams, thoroughly corporate enterprises, really care about their fans. On the other hand, it's hard to take that kind of behaviour as anything but the behaviour of a pathetic slob.

Still, things get deeper quickly, as Paul has a chance encounter with one of his favourite players at a strip club that ends with him getting beaten to the point of concussion. But with the impending legal action keeping the player out of the lineup, and subsequently sending Paul's beloved Giants on a losing streak, Paul is very reticent to press charges. Things eventually spiral too far for Paul, though, when a frequent on-air nemesis learns that he's the one who got beat up by his favourite player, and the constant headaches and familial tension explodes into a climax that's both dark and fitting.

What really makes the film work is how well Siegel captures his milieu. This is a dirty, largely working-class world, and though Siegel may not empathize with Paul or his family all that much, he knows it well enough to create relationships and dynamics that feel real, and that makes the whole endeavour an honest exploration of just how deep allegiance to laundry might go. Siegel may not be willing to spend much time with a guy like Paul, but he's able to take a look at him, and the result is blunt character study wrapped in an intriguing what-if. V
 

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