by Joe Hammerschmidt
[NOTE: This film previously reviewed as part of the 2018 Seattle International Film Festival]
Growing up most formatively in the mid or late-2000s, those must’ve been where my sense of humor had been solidified. Almost without thinking about it, the mid-decade reconstruction of Saturday Night Live’s cast slowly built my appreciation for what live performance comedy can accomplish in a transformative manner. What it did mean to me, however, can’t quite equate to the powerhouse of funny that had spoken to so many young adults during the venerable program’s early years. And at long last, one of their stories is told, by those she inspired, her family, and that of the comedy community entirely. Love, Gilda, a well-received favorite during this summer’s SIFF, reemerges in time for SNL’s next season of timely satire, and among other things, a cast-driven community that may not see an equal. And back in the 70s, Gilda Radner was among the key figures holding that community with the tightness of a spinning top.
In a trend that couldn’t be more welcomed with much of this year’s documentary class, her rise, fall, struggles, and own view of life are shown with an overwhelming positivity. Even when at the deepest bottom one could sink toward, Radner always pushed forward with a smile on her face, bravery in her heart. This film just emphasizes that triumph to conquer til the last breath, with a unique combo of flawless effort and graceful whimsy. My own head spun into that delirium, the best kind, and it felt just memorable in its own special way. Right from the introduction of Miss Radner’s own words, first-time feature director Lisa D’appolito dots her landscape, not just with her own unbridled fanhood, but also that of subjects’ fondness, ranging from SNL legends Chase, Newman and Aykroyd; and more recent standouts like Wiig and Fey. Even close family are unanimously showing fondness, and more significantly, strength, for their hero. The lady that had paved a way for many comediennes after her.
Of course, D’appolito can’t shy away from the struggles Miss Radner had faced. The pressures of being a leading lady, rushed escapes from her comfort zone, an eating disorder, and the plummeting low of the ovarian cancer diagnosis that would cause her to disappear from this world all too soon. Those dark spots, when accompanied by Gilda’s own words and archived on-screen actions, they’re tricky to land on the right emotional wavelength, as evidenced in many other docs. Play too serious, and hopefulness is drowned out; play too bright, and one may feel insensitive toward the brevity in a given situation. D’appolito’s approach bears a certain hesitation, yet still achieves that clarity and positivity we all strive for while distinguishing ourselves from our demons, self-introduced or otherwise.
With any documentary, it’s always special to see parts of an individual’s career one may not be so familiar with; granted, it’s not as heavy as, say, an episode of Behind the Music, but still fondly appreciated, particularly the new sense of fulfillment she had found working with eventual husband Gene Wilder (may he RIP). Of course, I wouldn’t say for sure whether Haunted Honeymoon is her most triumphant work; and yes, many critics before me would’ve panned it. That being said, to show both sides of the coin where one loves the work but struggles to bite the bullet when the world is seemingly rejecting what’s on the table… I’ll be honest, it’d be impossible not to find that the least bit relatable.
Many of our favorite docs in 2018 share the best commonality: they celebrate humanity, whether for better or worse. Gilda’s tale fits with the best of us because like all of us, we are flawed. Scared. Bruised. Hyper. Passionate. Quick-witted. Intelligent. Vulnerable. Bold. Brave. At one point or another. There’s no shame to be had, only lessons to be learned and experiences to live. This is one of those rare occurrences where I honestly have nothing downward or much in the way of critiquing to say here. The ending could’ve been a little slower to sink in, but that is about it. Love, Gilda ensures its viewers that a love letter is being written, and written well, to an individual considered an icon, a hero, and a national treasure. Fans will be pleased, as will those who grew up in that era; anyone else, I’ll just say be prepared to learn more about American comedy, an aspect of and champion for the medium, especially given we may always be looking for the next one. (A-)
Love, Gilda opens in Seattle today, 9/22; Varsity Theater; film not rated; 88 minutes.
