Raindance Festival 2009: CRYING WITH LAUGHTER Review

Justin Molotnikov's feature debut, Crying With Laughter, centres on a week-in-the-life of rising Edinburgh stand-up comic Joey Fisk (Stephen McCole) as he recounts the events that have led to him turning up on stage looking even more disheveled than normal. A disarmingly honest run through of events, in front of a packed audience, is interspersed with the preceding week's unfortunate happenings. As Joey's private life crumbles around him, a chance encounter with Frank, an old school friend Joey barely remembers, re-opens some old wounds and threatens to carve some new ones. Frank, it appears, has a rather unhealthy interest in Joey's well-being and the narrative veers from journal of a stand-up comic to psychological thriller.

It's ironic that Molotnikov's most recent directing work was on the long-running Scottish TV police drama, Taggart, as much of the film plays out like a feature length version of the show with a distinctly un-cinematic aesthetic. What distinguishes this canny mystery thriller is the utterly convincing lead performance from McCole. The stand-up scenes are funny, but not too funny, perfectly conveying that fine line between having the audience in the palm of your hand and losing them completely to a tirade of boos. So too, Joey's off-stage life is a horribly convincing portrayal of someone simultaneously on the brink of both stardom and abject failure, a minor celebrity who can't pay his rent. In one of the most fascinating scenes Joey's landlord pursues him to a stand-up show to ensure he gets the rent owed, directly to his mitts. Hungover and worn down Joey loses the balance between using life experiences as material and bringing his private life on stage (a balance he's previously been shown treading with magnificent bravado). In making a very real battle public, he loses the crowd. The director has revealed how McCole spent prep time on the stand-up circuit in the Scottish capital, with fellow actor and real-life stand-up promoter Michaiah Dring setting him up with live gigs. It's paid off and his early scenes performing in the comedy clubs are amongst the best in the film.

As the story proper kicks off the narrative leads Joey into a murky past that he'd long forgotten, by an acquaintance who can't forget it. The psychological stand-off between Frank and Joey is gripping, an odd couple linked only by a traumatic shared experience. When Frank's motivations are finally revealed, Molotnikov for the most part does an admirable job in eschewing the clichés of such stories, until an unnecessary concession to populist sensibilities nearly undoes the good work. Whilst the dialogue is sharp, witty and believable throughout, other issues are a sag in pace two thirds in, and some confusingly handled plot points. Links back to Joey's stage performance work better at the start than further in, and Frank's ex SAS 'stalker' verges on cliché at times.

Minor quibbles aside, it's a taught, melancholic, thriller with an unusual and likeable lead that deserves more than the half empty auditorium it was greeted with at Raindance. Performances are universally strong and with a script finished only days prior to an 18 day shoot, on a modest £500k budget, it's a fresh, lean and original piece of Brit film-making.