Speakeasy

Call me old=fashioned, but I hanker after movie content where men aren't monsters and couples get along. I like a small comedy of manners that gives itself time to develop characters and observe them in action. There is a curious unreality about Speakeasy because both the above are not available in contemporary American life. The media terrorises the public, corporate employers keep wage-slaves' noses to the grindstone, genders are confused, and there is little room in the market for a film like this. It's an exercise in leprechaunish whimsy, with the main character one of those sad party magicians who never grew up, saddled with a barren wife who makes up for having no children by fighting with her father, torturing her partner and flirting with an old schoolfriend. Mr Hickman, a.k.a. The Great Bandini, has a fantasy friend who makes magical music boxes and has a sexy Chicano wife with a deaf daughter. There's a lot of US sign language, which was very today two years ago but now seems faded. Even the BBC news has sign language today. The deaf father has a curious past and an amusing secret treasure that is wildly implausible but works in this fantasy setting. Somehow, Hickman's patience, devotion and constance culminate in a healing for his wife, and they all live happily every after. If you willingly suspend your disbelief, this picture is a welcome foray into peace of mind and gentility of nature. If not, it will seem slight, even daft. It's a mood piece, and enjoying it is a question of mood, too.