Lars and the real girl

It is a subtle delightful irony that a film so grounded in the realities of individual and community life can use as its leverage the extraordinary premise of a relationship between a person and an adult-size doll. That this premise is so far removed from the normal scheme of things is a crucial feature of the themes that are explored in this film, as it serves to communicate the health and strength of the community that can absorb the issue by supporting, to what are often extreme lengths, the doll-lover in question.

The action rolls apparently effortlessly in this film, so effortlessly in fact that it lends the film a high degree of merit. However, nothing is perfect in filmmaking, and the one sticking point, if we are to be picky, is the manner in which Lars’ family initially react to the arrival of his latex girlfriend (for whom he concocts an elaborate history), which is to take their cue from him and treat her as they would a real person. That a different reaction would have precluded events unfolding as they do is the single minor quibble one may have with the plot in itself, but really this does not ruin the overall effect for the audience. Having established that the family and community will act as though Bianca, as Lars calls her, is a real person, the audience’s attention is from then on concerned with a number of questions subtly alluded to, e.g., whether Lars is mischevious or mentall ill and whether such an illness, if it is such, can be treated. As it turns out, the humorous and uplifting mood in the film, generated by the goodwill of his community, suggests to us that Lars will get over his issues, but we are never certain.

The action takes place in an unspecified North American rural community (ostensibly Minnesota, but filmed in Ontario) that is so far north that the local GP is also stipulated by law to be a qualified psychologist. It is cold there and snow covers the ground and people wear clumpy boots to protect their feet. Lars comments on the fact that it is made easy for him to avoid physical human contact living there due to the layers of clothing that the climate necessitates. He suggests that the pain of human contact is for him similar to the pain one feels upon returning to a warm place after being exposed to the cold, which is a simplistic but effective image given his persona.

The surreality of the Bianca situation is not as striking as it could be, partly because of the family’s and community’s support and dedication to play along with Lars, and also by the fact that her artificiality is never laid bare as bluntly as it might (by depicting her without clothing, for example). In fact, rather than explicitly portraying her artificiality, it is suggested with understatement at various junctures the role that dolls play in our lives, and sometimes even into our adult years, by the references to collectible action figures on a work colleagues shelf, the reassurance of a teddy bear for a young woman, and the kids playing with action figures in chapel.

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