"It's always been too much for me... life... and not enough. All at the same time..."
Funny Cow is the tale of fictional female comic, Funny Cow (FC). It's a piece whose narrative is loosely anchored around occasional footage of FC delivering some sort of 'For TV' career retrospective monologue in which she reflects upon her life and times to date. Going by this particular TV performance's high production values, it would seem that this is at a point in her life when she's clearly 'made it'. Whatever that may really mean.
There's a pervading air of melancholy about it all, something that is very much prevalent in this Adrian Shergold film which traces FC's life from its poverty-stricken beginnings, through the frustrations of an abusive marriage, to her eventual breakthrough success (and beyond) as a female comedian.
The child of an alcoholic mother and abusive father, comedy had always been the perfect outlet for FC, but it's only ultimately through a combination of perseverance and a bitter-sweet twist of fate that she finally gets a chance to prove her worth.
Though the backstory of Shergold's film is to some extent one of developing the courage to shoot for the stars, Funny Cow is just as concerned with the concept of female empowerment, and examining life's myriad struggles and the ties that so often bind us, whether we would choose them to or not.
"Confucius say: He who drop watch down toilet have shitty time..."
The 1970's northern working class setting and brash sense of old fashioned humour lends Funny Cow something of a gritty backdrop, and whether it be racial stereotypes or 'in-bad-taste' one-liners, considering that we live today in such a timid and easily-offended nanny state, it's actually rather surprising - and refreshing - that so much of a nationally-released film's shall we say, 'questionable' language and terminology has not been airbrushed from history. Undoubtedly this lends the piece a real sense of authenticity which could so easily have been stripped away, much to the film's detriment.
That said, though the more controversial content is at most fleeting, truth be told, this is probably not one for the easily offended or keen advocates of a more modern Sofie Hagen-esque safe-space type of comedy. But that probably goes without saying.
Paddy Considine's awkwardly circumspect portrayal of Angus, the arts-loving, book shop owner and FC's woefully mismatched other half for a period of time, is reassuringly solid and understated. Lindsey Coulson's performance as FC's mother in later life, though not an extended role, is nonetheless arresting for its depth, range and conviction, whilst Alun Armstrong's turn as the tragic, long-in-the-tooth jobbing morose comic, Lenny, is a highly impressive if excruciatingly mournful performance.
And then of course there's Maxine Peake whose performance as FC wonderfully encapsulates the actions and emotions of a woman who is first to acknowledge that she has never really fitted in, and whose struggles and persistence - not to mention a thicker than average skin - have eventually paid off professionally-speaking.
Although there is evidently a part of her that remains unfulfilled and more than a little world-weary, the over-riding impression here is that FC is one life's great survivors, who, having been through so much in her life is consequently an emboldened woman, steadfastly refusing to ever even entertain the notion of being considered a victim.
Aided by Richard Hawley's sympathetic soundtrack, Adrian Shergold expertly straddles the line between good and bad taste, between tragedy and triumph, and between tears and substantial laughter, to produce not only a film that is genuinely funny, but one which is thoughtful and emotionally engaging too.
This and hundreds of other films are reviewed on my WaywardWolfBlog
