Huggable. This could be the most huggable film of the year.
BRIGSBY BEAR is arms around torso, head and shoulders above a mere embrace.
BRIGSBY BEAR is a true original, creating comfort from discomfort, cuddles out of curdles, humour out of humanness.
At the beginning of BRIGSBY BEAR we meet man child, James. To say James’ intensely protective parents have kept their son a bit sheltered is a ginormous understatement.
The family dwelling is a survivalists bunker, and the only way James gets to see anything of the outside world within the strict environs is through a sealed observation points, accessed by an elaborate series of secure procedures.
Apocalyptic holocaust must have happened and Mum, Dad, and James are hermetically sealed in their shelter.
A bright, sensitive young adult, James has grown up with a goofy television kids show called Brigsby Bear, a kind of cross between Humphrey B. and Doctor Who.
Suddenly, James’ rarefied life becomes even more peculiar as a dramatic turn of events render his past a figment with a future founded on a naive nostalgia.
Close bosom buddy of Hal Ashby’s Being There, BRIGSBY BEAR is an inventively offbeat and profoundly uplifting love letter to the redemptive power of creativity, the brainchild of lead actor, Kyle Mooney, whose characterisation of James is pitch perfect.
An added delight to the fabric of this fine film is the casting and performance of Mark Hamill as James’ father, Ted. His presence alone casts the picture into the stratosphere of the pop culture zeitgeist, and a strong, sensitive performance catapults the film further past the orbit of a mere cult cameo.
Greg Kinnear is endearing as a cop with curtailed acting ambition and Clare Danes shines as a shrink.
BRIGSBY BEAR back ends the year with a tale of beauty where all around there are tales of brutality.
Embrace Brigsby and cuddle up to a true original.
