Mister Lonely

Review

The hero of Harmony Korine’s Mister Lonely is a Michael Jackson impersonator (Diego Luna) enticed by a Marilyn Monroe impersonator (Samantha Morton) to an impersonator commune in the Scottish Highlands. There he finds a menagerie of international wannabes, among them Curly, Larry, and Moe; the pope; and a hilariously foulmouthed Abe Lincoln. Everyone is dear except Marilyn’s husband, Charlie Chaplin (Denis Lavant), a controlling little Fascist. As the group copes, sadly, with a flock of infected sheep and, hopefully, with rehearsals for its new show, Korine cuts to a flock of (sheeplike?) nuns being exhorted by Werner Herzog to test their faith by leaping out of a plane without parachutes. Herzog is playing a priest, but he’s not much of an actor, and the subplot seems like a metaphor for visionary directors and their sacrificial-lamb performers.

Mister Lonely reveals that the punk abrasiveness of Korine’s youth has been replaced by a lyrical self-pity�the apparent upshot of a decade on the skids. I’m glad he has pulled himself together, but the film is pretty ramshackle, full of obvious group improvisations that fail to spark and an overdose of bathos. The best parts are Luna’s Michael Jackson dance moves, which eerily conjure up the man�himself a kind of impersonator�and do justice to the movie’s most intriguing line: �There are no truer souls than those who impersonate.� — David Edelstein

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• David Edelstein's Full Review (5/5/08)

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