Cheap Henry Fool (DVD) (Thomas Jay Ryan, James Urbaniak, Parker Posey) (Hal Hartley) Price

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The first thing one has to realize about this movie (and which should be obvious to anyone who was watching even halfway closely) is that Henry Fool is full of it. The sheer irony of the film is that he is nothing of what he makes himself out to be (a tortured genius, a misunderstood writer, a callous scoundrel, etc.) and simultaneously everything that he rails against (primarily the pseudo-intellectual elite). Henry is the epitome of the pretentious slacker plaguing modern America - always complaining, always about to do something momentous, always focusing on his/her needs, always feeding off of others, and never providing an unselfish moment for others. Henry makes time for Simon only because it amuses him to do so - he feels superior to Simon, even in the face of Simon's awakening greatness, but once Simon becomes independent of him (witness the negotiation scene between Simon and the publishing mogul), then Henry dismisses Simon as part of the world that doesn't understand his "unique" and lamentably absent genius.

But, to his defense, Henry does exhibit flashes of true humanity. He does love Fay, although he is incapable of showing it for more than a few minutes at a time. He is genuinely concerned about the abused Pearl and her mother, although it unwittingly gets him into a larger mess than anticipated. In his attempts to show his artistic sensibilities at the start of the film, Henry unwittingly sparks Simon's genius by encouraging him to write down any thoughts that strike him, although its clear that Henry expects nothing of import. Henry is the catalyst for Simon, Fay, and others' lives, and the fact that he does so little while talking so much is part of the ironic fun in this film - those who speak the least (Simon, Henry's son, and Daughter Dang) are the ones who do the most.

At the bottom of it all, Henry's biggest failing to refusing to accept his mistakes and crimes. He claims unrepentance but feels a deep-seated shame that comes out in his excuses - "People like us, Simon, great writers, can't be tied down to the everyday mundane existence of the common rabble" is a speech that resurfaces time and time again as a reason to avoid everyday labor, and the fact that he claims that his affair with the 13-year-old is part of some conspiracy against him is symptomatic of his refusal to come to terms with himself.

The nature of discontent and how it brings out our seamier qualities is exemplified in Henry and other characters. The characters who accept their lives as given are the ones who succeed, while those who are discontented are driven to crime, drug and alcohol abuse, denigration of their families, and suicide "Does it matter that it's not remarkable?" asks Simon of his clinically depressed mother. "Yes," she replies, shortly before her death.

In short, Henry is a fool - he knows what is right, but he does wrong for the gluttonous joy of it. He knows what he should do to succeed in the world but chooses to live off of others because it would be too much effort otherwise. He has every reason to be content (a house, a lovely wife, a loving son, and a steady if menial job) but prefers his cynical and self-destructive worldview. He is everything that the world tells us can bring no good - and yet, he does manage to procreate two great things of beauty while living with the Grims - an amazing poet and a kindly, intelligent son. In the end, Henry is provided with a choice - to either run from his troubles as he has always done or to face the music and be a mensch. Which does he choose? is the question that Hartley leaves us with, along with the rest of this quirky, bumpy film.

While a good show, "Henry Fool" is not as engaging as "Trust" nor as offbeat as "Amateur." However, it is still a film worth watching. Forget the over-wraught analytical nonsense that the some many of the other reviewers and I have spewed - instead, watch this film and see if you can recognize a Henry Fool in your life.

The Thin Line Between Artists and Fakes
Awesome.

This is one of my top-five favorite films of all time.

I own this on VHS and I will buy the DVD as well.

It's understandable that some intelligent, creative people may dislike this film. The movie demonstrates how one can be brilliant, skilled and dedicated (Henry), but ultimately unable to deliver.

Henry's grasp of language and apparent intellectual depth are so engaging, we are fooled into believing his own claims to greatness. In a world crawling with self-proclaimed writers, artists and poets, it's a painful truth that talent and desire often do not lead to success.

But all of this is really just a plot vehicle for the overriding themes of the movie.

In the end, this is a film about friendship, loyalty, pride and family. And it's beautifully done.

I've watched it several times and I'll admit that it drags a bit in places, but I still love it.

Pseudo/quasi/wanna-be...
First, only pseudo intellectuals are trite enough to accuse others of being pseudo-intellectuals. It's simply taking the easy way out. An intellectual does not take the easy way out. Hal Hartley does not take the easy way out. The same goes for quasi-artistes and wanna-be critics. I agree with "Stuart Scott". If you need it all spelled out for you, who are you to criticize another's intellect? Henry Fool asks, and answers the question "what is art", in a provocative manner. It's at once beautiful and pretentious, like all good art. We have a poseur extraordinaire: Henry Fool, and an "all too obviously talented" poet: Simon Grimm, using one another, as is the traditional arrangement between the ambitious and the gifted, to advance their own positions in the outer world while learning of their own significance in their own inner world. No punches are pulled, no notoins left unexplored here. This is the workshop: where the real art behind the art is made. Anyone who can't appreciate this is a pseudo/quasi/wanne-be fool of epic porportions and miniscule importance. Okay, that's mean. Sorry. But two words for the person who thought a white working class poet was "unrealistic", and then thought the movie was "pseudo artistic". First, since when does Art have to be realistic? Are you a bolshevik? Second, Have you ever heard of Charles Bukowski? Or Jim Carroll? Or Henry Miller? Jeez, you put pearls before swine and look what happens. Sorry, mean again. And trite too.