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Hank (Paul Dano) is at death’s door. He has a noose
around his neck. He is about to take the plunge. But, just as he is about to
crack—from his solitary confinement on a small, deserted island, with little
food and water; and even worse, no one to love or be loved by—Hank sees
something that brings him down from the ledge.
It’s a person! Someone else has washed up on shore. Finally,
a companion. For Hank, this isn’t just someone to break up the soul crushing monotony
of life on an island. It’s as if God himself sent an Eve to be Hank’s companion—to
help manage his world, to name things, to explore.
The only catch: This person (Daniel Radcliffe) is dead. Fish
food. A lifeless corpse. Just as Hank waxes philosophical about being sent a
companion, this pale, dead body in a blue suit and tie lets out a big,
posthumous fart, as if to remind Hank that, no, things really do suck and the
whole world and everything in it is crass and ugly. God must have a sick sense
of humor.
Initially Hank takes all this as a punch in the gut, if
not a slap in the face, and so he remounts his gallows. But as he prepares for
his dramatic, decisive final act, all he can hear is farting. It’s really bad. So
bad, in fact, that it is causing the dead body to sort of come to life—to flop
around and even move through the waves lapping on the shore.
An intrigued Hank goes to investigate. But before long he
is, you know, riding the dead body through the water at a breakneck pace like
he is on a Jet Ski or something, propelled only by this Godsend’s high octane flatulents.
All right, it may not be pretty or normal, but hey, this
dead body can do stuff. Turns out it can also spew water like an oasis’ spring,
shoot projectiles out of its mouth, Karate chop wood and other construction items,
and navigate with his, ahem, boner.
But by far the most important thing is that this lifeless
corpse is, more and more, the companion that first brought Hank back from the
brink. He gets a name: Manny. At first Manny is just a sounding board. But then
some odd things happen. Manny starts to talk a little. Then a lot. He is still very
much dead, mind you. But we pretty much left reality behind back with the gassy
dolphin escapade.
Hank and Manny get to know each other. Manny can’t
remember anything from his former life, so Hank has to tell him everything—from
Cheese Puffs to girls to busses to why people tend to keep their farts to
themselves. Both Hank and Manny are kind of weird. But it’s O.K. Each is the
others’ savior—the miracle who brought the other back from the dead.
“Swiss Army Man” is at its best when it is not taking
itself too seriously. There is a very charming middle swath of this movie. It’s
light. It’s funny. It’s buoyant. It’s just nice.
I’m not usually a big Paul Dano fan, and I usually have a
hard time not seeing that other Boy Who Lived whenever Daniel Radcliffe’s face
is on screen. But in this movie they do a pretty nice job. It is not overly
hammy (as Dano, who I think is a chronic over-actor, might have made it). And Radcliffe
affects a nice American accent that masks his other, more famous identity.
If only that were the whole movie—a pleasant idyll. But
it is not. “Swiss Army Man” succumbs to taking itself too seriously. I mean,
there are some fine enough themes in this movie—about death, companionship,
being “weird”, and so on. But these themes desperately needed a light touch
here, both because the overall tone of the movie is not fit to bear too sober a
load, and because these themes are so well worn that it’s just massively
unlikely that Hank and Manny, whatever their regenerative powers may be, ever
had a chance of breathing new life into them.
The ending sequences of this movie are especially high
handed, cheesy, baffling, and pretty much just awful. Walk out of the movie
with about 15 minutes left, if you can. You’ll see a simpler, less complex movie.
But it will be far more unified and pleasant.
