Film Fatale: Did Funny Ha Ha Invent Normcore?
Somewhere in between Girlfriends (1978) and Frances Ha (2012) there is Funny Ha Ha (2002), the mumblecore classic that makes you feel like you’re following around your friend for a week without them knowing you’re there. Paving the way for Greta Gerwig and channelling the spirit of independent filmmaking from Richard Linklater’s Slacker (1990), Funny Ha Ha is a somewhat looked over staple for the awkward coming of age films that were gracing the screens in the noughties featuring Michael Cera and the like.
Funny Ha Ha (2002) is Andrew Bujalski's first feature film, and it embodies the early 20’s experience of floating around, kissing friends and getting drunk with four other people in a kitchen on a weeknight. There’s much more to it though – there are plenty of coming-of-age films that feature a lost protagonist that emits a coolness but also an un-coolness (bad posture, awkward conversationalist) who tries to navigate the beginning of adulthood. What makes Funny Ha Ha stand out amongst the rest is the embrace of ‘low quality’, a lo-fi charm that feels like it’s snippets from a home movie. The camera lingers behind the characters as they chat about work, people they know and themselves.
The film follows recent college grad Marnie as she looks for a job, fails at love and keeps accidentally getting drunk with her small group of friends. It’s a very simple story but one that will never get old. Their (now normcore, then normal) fashion of blue jeans and plain tees are impeccable too - the casual look is a refreshing breath of Boston suburban air. It’s a much-needed visual break after your eyes are hounded by 2022 Shein microtrends.
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Marnie faces a dilemma when she realises she has a ‘thing’ for her good friend Alex, she confides in her friends who gossip and she’s faced with the awkward conversation after Alex finds out. This string of narrative is incredibly casual, and the dialogue is at times hard to hear (hence: Mumblecore) so as an audience member we’re placed in the position of thinking ‘why are they making a film about this?’ Even with the popularity of Kevin Smith films like Clerks (1994) where characters once again just sit around and talk, the low budget element combined with the deadpan humour and fumbling over words in Funny Ha Ha takes the movie to a new level of casualness.
The most surprising thing about this film – or maybe the thing that makes the most sense – is that Bujalski had Chantal Akerman as his thesis supervisor when at college. Akerman directed Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975), the ‘slice of life’ of a housewife, and one of the more famous arthouse moments as it’s over 3 hours of (mostly) a woman going about her day, chores, and all. Jeanne Dielman makes us spend time with the ultimate in-between moments – of dishes, cooking, and living. The film doesn’t try to make the mundane seem spectacular or particularly cinematic, but it becomes cinematic when we’re made to sit and watch the details of the everyday. This is what Bujalski achieves in a more colloquial, modern way for the average slacker in 2002 and beyond.
As you watch, you get that same feeling as when you zone out whilst hanging with friends you hang out with every Friday, Saturday, maybe Sunday morning when you get the scaries and a few midweek trips if work is bad (and it’s always bad). Sipping a beer and having a look around and thinking ‘will this ever end’, ‘I should probably go home soon and finish reading that book’. The pressures we feel in our early to mid-twenties are personified in Marnie, the ultimate girl just knocking about and shrugging her shoulders.
The ending of the film is what strikes me the most. Marnie and Alex go to the park and sit on the grass, Alex is now married but they still flirt a little and laugh about nothing. After their encounter, we see Marnie straight faced, aimlessly walking around town, and spending her nights drinking throughout the film, she finally seems somewhat content. There’s no conclusion to this story - we don’t see her get a higher paying job, win over Alex or find a new source of love, rather it’s an abrupt ending with a glimmer of hope as she sits in the sun. Suggesting that the only option she has - we have - is to ride the wave and accept the aimlessness of her early 20’s.
“The film doesn’t try to make the mundane seem spectacular or particularly cinematic, but it becomes cinematic when we’re made to sit and watch the details of the everyday.”
In a time where we’re having successful people shoved into our faces via Instagram and TikTok who always seem to be younger, richer and give advice like ‘just wake up at 5am everyday and manifest!’, we’re in dire need for a mumblecore revival. A sprinkle of insecurity after opening our phones is doable, but the expectation to get that grad job and live in a two-bed flat by yourself by twenty six is making me nauseous. It’s time to reject the modern-day yuppie media and Netflix specials where the barista lives in a high ceiling loft in New York and embrace films where the leading lady sleeps on her friend’s floor on a Wednesday night and is late for work.
Words: Charlotte Amy Landrum
