By Ted Baldwin
|Sadly unsympathetic - Andy Kaufman does not live in this Milos Forman bio-pic.|
It is a funny, forlorn film, a man out of touch, self-destructive to the end. Is he dead? Is it a show? Did he check out for real?
No one cares.
Carrey is great as the befuddling genius Kaufman, but the wretched excesses of the characterizations of Andy keep us too distant from him as a person. There is no one to relate to, and the misery he spreads with this debilitating psychotic babble wears very thin.
Interesting stuff, and a lot of laughs, but it is empty. Sort of like that wretched Bear Bryant football film, but well done, and entertaining.
To illustrate his penchant for silence as a comedic act, I will simulate it here.
Now, if you got this far with me, you begin to understand the vacuity of the comedy, and how dependent it is upon the audience. Some of the stunts are perfection, and carried to their end, achieved Andy's goal - atomization and isolation of the audience, leaving them with the rug thoroughly pulled out from under them, again and again until no one gives a royal shit. And no one does.
Still, Carrey is great, and it is worth the time. I just wish I could care.