Lars and the real girl

The foremost reason why I went to see Lars and the real girl was, undoubtedly, the name. The story treads an interesting path somewhere in between kitchen sink realism and absurdism. There is a lot of low-key drama, coarse landscapes and silly hand-knit sweaters, all of this making for a film about people who live lives that are in no sense extraordinary. The main character, Lars, comes off as a shy young man. People are worried about him because he seems to lack all interest in relationships. An elderly women approaches him after church, just to get some updates as to his love life. Is he gay? She knows about them gays now, as her grandchild happens to be one. Lars' love life has turned into a communal affair. One day, Lars' co-worker once again asks him to have a look at some porn-related internet page. Sex dolls. Later on we find out that Lars has received a package. He lives in his brother's garage. Proudly, he declares to his brother and his wife that he has a visitor, a girlfriend. What follows is the villagers' gradual learning and acceptance of Lars' "girlfriend", the sex doll, which he treats as if it were a living person. You might think that this story seems silly and that it lacks credibility. And, well, there were moment in the film in which I thought so, too. But this did not prevent me from enjoying it.

I regard Lars and the real girl as a critique of the way we tend to psychologize and medicalize interpersonal problems. The best part of the film is the town's only doctor/shrink, played by Patricia Clarkson (who was Ruth's sister in Six feet under!). While Lars' brother eagerly tries to come up with psychological explanations and causes of Lars' behavior, Dagmar the psychologist tries to make Lars open up to her. Her gentle, but decisive approach wins the trust of her client. Or it is more to the point to say that it is not clear whether they have a client-therapist relationship at all; Lars meets her in the belief that his girlfriend has an appointment with Dr. Dagmar. Anyway, the villagers gradually stop treating Lars as a crazy person. They treat him as somebody who has certain difficulties with himself.

At times, the villagers reactions lack credibility. Lars' co-worker embodies a flat goodness that gains neither friction or reality. This is when I get the sense that the film simplifies Lars' problems and that the whole issue is sugar-coated in the characters merry adaptation to the situation. It isn't that I question the film's belief in goodness. One of the scenes, in which the ladies of the town have arrived at Lars' house to mourn the "dying" Bianca, knit-work and food bowl in hand, is moving and fun at the same time. It's simply that goodness is distorted as soon as sentimentality becomes a part of the picture. And although the overall message seems to be higly critical of the alienating language of pop-psychology, the sentimental bits about how Lars' bears the scars of a tough childhood brings that awful psychologizing right back.

A striking moment of the movie takes place as the male characters first hear of Bianca the sex doll-turned-girlfriend. Wow, they say, that's the best girlfriend one could have, silent, obedient - always ready. But this thread could have been developed much more. On the other hand: there is something preposterous about the villagers' acceptance of the sex doll as Lars' "partner". I was inclined to think that this was a sign of kindness and respect, but this might not be the case at all. Lars' asocial tendencies were treated as a fact, something that couldn't be dealt with directly, they simply waited on the situation and hoped for the best. I start to wonder what kind of outlook on human relationships and confrontations (or lack of them) the film lures its viewers into. The difference between the stereotypical sensitive-young-male in indie flicks and Lars might not be a big one: the premise is that young males with problems have to be dealt with with utter delicacy. When you think about it, there are several gender discourses, in which delusion is excused as a natural part of male identity, that males simply have to take on a deluded understanding of human relationships in order to "survive". Cf. the idea that males will, given some time and luck, grow into a more "mature understanding of women", but that it is only natural that young men have issues with women.

I have mixed feelings about Lars and the real girl. As some reviewers have pointed out, the small-town coziness evokes American self-flattery, far removed from real problems and messy ambiguities. On the other hand, it's a cute film in the business of questioning cynical brain-centred anti-humanism. But a worrying thing about this film is that I grow more and more alert to some worrying things upon more thorough reflection. In other words, I feel a little cheated.