"Bernie" has left the building

"Bernie" is a sneaky chortler.  The laughs came so fast it was hard to catch my breath, but also were so abundant that one doesn't necessarily stop and think about the implications of the story the film presents.  Unfortunately, I don't have a phonographic memory, so you'll have to make do with my approximations.  I hope I can do the lines from this very funny film some modicum of justice.


In some respects, it's a small film, focused on the story of a beloved man who took the life of the meanest old lady in Carthage, Texas.  The format is a disarming blend of performance and documentary.  Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine and Matthew McConaughey star, but a number of the real citizens of Carthage speak directly to the camera. The blend of professional actors and local characters is so seamless audiences have no clue who's acting and who's remembering.

The hand of the writer is similarly obscured. Some of the lines come from the townspeople of Carthage, as memorialized in writer Skip Hollandworth's 1998 Texas Monthly article.   Many of the lines are reminiscent of the East Texas expressions Dan Rather would rattle off in the heat of election night returns.  My personal favorites came from Sonny Carl Davis as Lonnie as he described the jury pool as "countin' cousins" who favored "fried mud cat washed away with warm beer". Early in the film "Lonnie" also introduces the audience to Texas geography--highlighting the carcinogenic corridor featuring Houston; the Tex-Mex region bordering Mexico and boasting the eponymous regional cuisine; the dry yet productive west Texas oil fields; the well-known "Republic of Texas" featuring Austin; the shortshrifted panhandle which doesn't merit Lonnie's commentary (or anyone else's attention); and of course the pine-rimmed region of East Texas, to the east of the greed-center of Dallas-Fort Worth.


Beyond the very fine and clever script, the performances are similarly noteworthy, particularly Jack Black.  We meet him at the opening of the film as Bernie, driving his 1970 or 1980-something Lincoln Continental, singing along as the radio plays a popular version of the hymn "Love Lifted Me".  We learn Bernie is a newcomer who has come to town to take a job as an assistant funeral director.  We see Bernie singing hymns, leading funeral services, instructing would-be morticians in the techniques of cosmetologizing corpses.


Throughout the film, Bernie applies his "gift" of care not only to the dearly departed, but also to those they've left behind--showing up with gifts of baskets featuring bath supplies and boxes of chocolates to comfort them.  He's characterized as a "buyaholoic" who cannot seem to stop himself from picking up multiple bird clocks, or whatever item has taken his fancy.  These trinkets are things he gives away; he's a giving man. 


He gives tax advice.  He supports the arts in town, and performs in college productions. Later, after the murder, Bernie gives away his benefactress's money.

Black embodies Bernie as a chubby cherub.  After watching the film, I was put in mind of a commercial figure from my childhood out west---Bob, of Bob's Big Boy.
 
While he is clearly the same Jack Black of "The School of Rock" and "Shallow Hal", the performance he gives here is toned down, similar to the role he played in "The Big Year".  While "Bernie" is a flamboyant character, Black plays him with respect. His Bernie is thoughtful, kind and generous.  He's just this side of simpering, and it works.

The focus of the film is his relationship with one of the grieving widows he's attended post-funeral.  Marjorie Nugent is Carthage's curmudgeon.  She broke ties with her family and had no friends.  She was alone, until Bernie came along and befriended her.  Shirley MacLaine's "Margie" is a prune-faced woman who starts off reveling in Bernie's company, but ends up demanding everything from Bernie from dropping whatever's he's doing to organizie her pills, to washing her unmentionables.

The townspeople love Bernie, even though he might not be "one of them" (read heterosexual).  One woman says, "Our lord wore sandals and never married.  Neither did his 12 disciples."  Her goal was to have Bernie sing at her funeral and that meant she (and many of her fellow citizens) would do whatever was necessary to keep Bernie out of jail.  


The one weakness I saw in the film was MacLaine's performance.  She was best when she wasn't talking, but some of her line deliveries were wooden at best, empty at worst.  Still, she conveys the nastiness of Marjorie Nugent sufficiently well to make the point--people didn't miss her even after she hadn't been seen for nine months.  When the good citizens of Carthage learn of Margie's death, only a few are outraged.  Most cannot believe that Bernie would have harmed a flea, much less an elderly woman.

Matthew McConaughey plays D.A. Danny Buck Davidson, putting his Texas-smooth to work.  He's smarmy and oily and confident.  And yet, at the end of the day, it's Danny Buck who calls the film back to
its moral center, reminding the viewers and townspeople that Marjorie Nugent was murdered.


The film succeeds on many, many levels.  Carthage, Texas seems like a lovely little town and the townspeople are all portrayed as engaging and warm people who tell it like it is with their grounded yet sharp wit.  Still, this IS a murder story, and the "hero" is the murderer.  There's something wrong with that and viewers would do well to keep that in mind.  At the end of the day, "Bernie" is an entertaining film, but perhaps it shouldn't have been.  At best, it is a guilty pleasure.  At worst, it trivializes something civilized people cannot sanction--taking someone's life.