Love and Larceny In a Small Town

By RICHARD CORLISS

At last January's Sundance Film Festival, the big finds were The Blair Witch Project and Happy, Texas. The first film, which its makers sold to Artisan Entertainment for $1.1 million, went on to become the feel-scared (or -shafted) movie of the summer and to earn nearly $140 million at the domestic box office. By this yardstick, Happy, Texas, which Miramax Films picked up for about $6 million, should sweep the Oscars and outgross Titanic.

In movies, of course, the rules of mathematics apply less universally than the law of the fluke. Blair Witch was a cunning fluke; Happy, Texas is just the kind of smart, communal comedy (The Opposite of Sex, Happiness, Election, Go) to which the mass film audience has shown serial resistance. Yet here you will find an easy charm, a cleverly unforced sense of humor and a benignity toward all its genially oddball characters that Hollywood would do well to emulate. If moviegoers skip this one, they'll be missing a real treat.

Two cons--Harry the thief (Brit throb Jeremy Northam, doing a nice imitation of all four Baldwin brothers) and Wayne Wayne Wayne Jr., the career loser (appealingly whiny Steve Zahn)--have escaped from prison and landed in "the town without a frown." The camper they have stolen belonged to a couple of pageant producers, so Harry and Wayne must pretend to be gay men with an encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes and sewing as they prepare five avid little girls for the 18th annual Little Miss Fresh Squeeze Preteen Talent Competition. They are also expected to be the most sensitive guys west of Dallas, tending to the emotional needs of a teacher (Illeana Douglas), a bank president (Ally Walker) and a sheriff (William H. Macy, great as always).

Doesn't this look like a cynical mix of every indie trope of the past few years? Guys on the run, heartland town, a goofy pageant, the career-gal blues. Oh, and some real gay people. All of which proves there's nothing new under the sun. And nothing so original as a writer who can make comic haute cuisine out of the ingredients for hash.

That would be Ed Stone. Collaborating with first-time director Mark Illsley on the script, he creates drama by placing decent folks in uncomfortable situations. It's as simple as having a man or a woman fall in love with someone wildly unsuitable, and as difficult as making all the parties pleasant and plausible--in the best sense, human.

The character defects that got Harry and Wayne into trouble are precisely those that appeal to the Happy, Texans. The town loves the danger they suggest, or perhaps just their novelty. In a place where everybody knows everybody, the unknown is sexy; it offers a last hope for change, adventure, escape. Jettisoning propriety means the locals have never felt so alive. If the fling ends in one's getting flung...well, as the sheriff says, "That's what life is about, isn't it--finding out?"

What does it take to get people to see a lovely comedy that offers flawless ensemble performances and acres of good cheer? Try this blurb: Funnier than The Blair Witch Project.

--R.C.