DVD OF THE WEEK: Goliath

Goliath
Directed by David Zellner
2008, 80 minutes, USA
MPI Home Video

David and Nathan Zellner's Goliath is a passionate ode to old ties and new beginnings, steeped in metaphor, strangely evocative, yet hilariously deranged. The Austin-based sibling filmmakers seemingly know the tropes of mainstream comedy and work against them. A plot synopsis tells you almost nothing: Though essentially the story of one man's ties to his cat, the movie operates on a singularly bizarre narrative plain based around the ramifications of becoming a social pariah. It moves along in fragments of scenes, sudden outbursts and extended pauses. A climactic sequence involves as much emotional finality as it does absurdity and mayhem. In the final minutes, it's like a Looney Tunes cartoon came to life, invaded suburbia and absorbed its discontents. In other words, Goliath is purely unique cinema.

David Zellner plays Guy, a lonely character embroiled in ugly divorce proceedings while vainly struggling with his dead-end office job and decrying the sudden disappearance of his titular feline. It's this third ingredient that provides a surreal kick to the narrative arc. Our hero desperately goes through the motions, posting flyers all around northeastern Austin and calling out for his missing pet. The filmmakers seem less poised to look down at Guy's pathetic quest than to inhabit it, as the movie opens with a montage of photographs showing the missing kitty in play and concludes with adorable shots of his eventual replacement. Everything else in the character's life seems not only secondary to Goliath but actually a distraction from his importance. A four-minute take in which Guy and his wife sign divorce papers goes on and on, stops being funny and grows terribly frustrating [editor's interruption: and strangely becomes funny again!], to the point where we know exactly how Guy feels. We want him to find the cat as much as he does.

I won't spoil the fate of the missing pet except to say that it's not a pretty one. On the DVD commentary, the brothers reveal precisely how much realism they wanted to inject into the story, and it shows. (Their short films, particularly the Sundance 2010 selection Fiddlestixx, display their wilder experimental tendencies.) Everyone in Guy's insular world, from his steely-eyed bosses (including an utterly creepy Andrew Bujalski) to his dismissive ex, find faults in this strange man. Only Goliath, it seems, unconditionally accepted him. The tragedy of the cat's disappearance is legitimized by this implied relationship. "If we took it lightly," Nathan says on the commentary, "it would have trivialized the whole thing."

Cat lovers everywhere, rejoice: Your obsession is understood. Goliath becomes a symbol more than a creature, which enables the movie to defy genre expectations. In trifles like Marley and Me or that infernal Beethoven franchise, animals are asked to develop character weight that's obviously above their capacity. Goliath's perpetual invisibility places the emphasis on the way he affects people.

Which brings me to that maniacal climax. The Zellner brothers, who last appeared together onscreen for Bujalski's Beeswax, engage in a brutal face-off that combines slapstick with violent thrills. Guy has lost his mind, essentially gone postal. He projects his shortcomings onto an obnoxious neighbor (Nathan) and hurls the full force of his anger at his chosen foe. You get the sense that David and Nathan fought like this when they were kids—minus the mace and sharp objects (maybe)—because Guy's fury contains a powerful degree of authenticity where other actors may have turned it into farce. The movie ends with a combination of insanity and clarity. Goliath succeeds, then, because the Zellners take their subject seriously. Life itself, however, they turn into a grand joke.

Posted by ahillis at January 12, 2010 2:32 PM