Happy Go Lucky is the story of a happy person. A really happy person. A person so goddamn chipper that, 10 minutes into the film, I started imagining ways to make her suffer. Rarely have I loathed a character as much as I loathe Poppy.
Happy go stupid
Happy Go Lucky is the story of a happy person. A really happy person. A person so goddamn chipper that, 10 minutes into the film, I started imagining ways to make her suffer. Rarely have I loathed a character as much as I loathe Poppy.
And, as Happy Go Lucky is a character study of this irritating and cloying British woman, it’s also a film that is very hard to like. See, the gist of director Mike Leigh’s vision seems interesting: An unflappably content person deals with life’s many small hardships, never letting up, always responding–to the point of absurdity–with a smile and a joke. Racist slurs? Oops! A child being beaten? He’ll be OK. Insane violent outbursts? Well, everyone has bad days, ha ha.
This would all be fine, of course, except that Leigh never actually holds up the heavy end of the truth bargain. I would love to see a movie about a person’s unfailing happiness being tested. Ostensibly, that’s what Happy Go Lucky is about.
But Poppy never changes. And the story doesn’t really test her; it just winds up being an odd portrait of a person that most people probably can’t relate to. Poppy’s so nice that she comes off as deranged, which, oddly, doesn’t seem to be a problem.
A prime example of this is the scene where Poppy is inexplicably talking to a homeless person at night.
There’s no setup for this conversation (I assume she just saw the dude muttering to himself and thought, “Hey! New friend!”), and it goes about the way you’d expect, with her glazed-over happiness failing to break through the stiff barrier of insane garbling. She learns nothing from this experience.
This scene also illustrates a structural problem with the movie: It happens, she moves on, we never think about it again. Over and over again this happens. The film breezes through Poppy’s life, and the perennially joyful main character just marches dutifully on.
At the end of the film, when Poppy finally seems like she’s going to confront the ills of the world, as shown and represented through her racist driving instructor, the film builds, builds and… fizzles. Poppy is confused, not upset, and the film ends without her changing.
Sally Hawkins, who plays Poppy’s eccentric bag lady persona to a tee, deserves commendation for her dedication to the role. Part of Leigh’s process for his films involves carefully constructing his characters, and letting the narrative flow from his creations. And Hawkins’ performance is exceedingly exact; I can see Poppy as real person, she breathes with life–insufferable, irritating life.
Happy Go Lucky does have some sharp visuals (it was shot on film designed to accentuate primary colors), and it portrays Poppy’s life in London in a sort of warm, sharply focused reality, which doesn’t add or subtract from the overall film.
My problem with Happy Go Lucky is that it pretends to examine the ability of people to shape their own happiness, but it’s never really honest with itself. Poppy doesn’t deal with her problems, she just ignores them. If you have to be insane to stay happy–the lesson I drew from this film–maybe it’s better to be sad.
Happy Go LuckyOpening Friday at Fox Tower1 1/2 out of 5 stars