There is something about the comedies of the 1930s: the confident strut of Cary Grant, the sarcastic wit of Katherine Hepburn and the biting scripts of Frank Capra. Few artists since have been able to capture the dialogue-driven brilliance of the era. "Man of the Century" is both a goofy tribute to and a strange parody of these films.
In following the life of reporter Johnny Twennies (Gibson Frazier), first-time director Adam Abrahams sends the narrative leaping between genres as he seeks to incorporate every movie stereotype of the period. Disconnected and bizarre as it may be, "Man of the Century" will make you smile at its exuberance.
Shot in old-fashioned black-and-white in the classic 1.33:1 aspect ratio, the first scene chronicles the spectacle that is Johnny's morning routine. An organ score accompanies his choppy, mime-like movements as he shaves and exercises. Wobbling vertical lines and black dots frolic across the screen, creating the grainy feel of an authentic silent comedy. Abrahams is already hard at work questioning perceptions as it becomes evident that Johnny lives not in the 1920s but in present day New York City. Once we learn this, the lines and dots vanish, although everything is still in black and white.
Young Johnny, however, has not caught on. Sporting vintage clothing and spouting expressions like "swell" and "Banana Oil!," he remains oblivious to the modern world. The movie never elaborates on why or how this happens, but it may have something to do with the fact that his mother wears Victorian dress, owns a horse-drawn carriage and expects him to marry the debutante of her choice.
"Man of the Century" presents the viewer not with a plot but with a series of improbable excuses to hop from genre to genre, depicting various, stereotypical characters and situations. Johnny himself changes with every plot turn. At the newspaper office, he gives a Marx Brothers imitation in which he talks as quickly - though not as amusingly - as Groucho. When he visits his girlfriend Samantha (Susan Egan), he turns into the wide-eyed American boy of a romantic musical comedy. But wait - there go a pair of thugs about to rob a girl on a bicycle. Johnny gets to play the dashing hero! Just as abruptly, he steps off the street and into an Egyptian tomb, where, sporting a pith helmet, he sneaks past hieroglyphics until he emerges out of the garbage can in his office. These and other film allusions - including the appearance of a bodyguard who recites Shakespeare - can be strange and puzzling for those not thoroughly familiar with old movies. But this zany mixture of stereotypes creates some amusing incongruities.
A certain element of coherence and suspense finally appears when two gangsters arrive at Johnny's apartment and tell him to write an article claiming that notorious crime lord Elijah Pitt has drowned. Johnny refuses, giving us a glimpse of the experienced, tough-talking newspaperman side to his character.
Meanwhile, trouble brews in Johnny's love life. His beloved Samantha, astonished and irritated that a simple kiss on the cheek satisfies his desire for romance, has become suspicious of his fidelity. This typifies the film's approach to the conflict between Johnny's fantasies and modern life. The complex modern world, which should bewilder and upset a man of the past, never fazes Johnny. Instead, he consistently bewilders the modern characters. At one point, an exasperated coworker explodes at him, "Do you just spend all day watching old movies on cable? Do you even get cable?" "Why sure, I get cables all the time," Johnny replies pleasantly.
In the end, virtually all the characters - including the irritable coworker - accept Johnny's worldview and join him for a rousing grand finale, complete with vivacious singing and dancing. This kind of energetic good nature abounds in "Man of the Century" and outweighs its fragmented plot and unremarkable acting.
(See schedule on page B3 for showtimes.)
Grade: B