After a particularly harsh winter, Brian goes into a deep depression; completely isolated and with no one to talk to, Brian does what any sane person would do when faced with such a melancholic situation. He builds a robot.
When we first meet Brian, he’s a bit odd. It takes roughly thirty minutes to unravel, but Brian’s isolation and loneliness weakened his social skills, leaving him a messy man who builds strange contraptions using leftover junk. The film is content not to judge him but instead lean into his weirdness. Brian’s awkward smile endears us to him as we learn: all he really needs is a friend.
“Brian and Charles” comes at a time when everything else in theaters is high-stakes, high-budget. Its bare essentials aesthetic is a far cry from everything else coming out right now, and it might be the antidote to blockbuster fatigue. David Earl’s tongue-in-cheek dramedy leans into its next-to-nothing budget by adopting the twee hallmark of filmmakers like Noah Baumbach, Todd Solondz, Greta Gerwig, Taika Waititi’s indie work, and the granddaddy of them all: Wes Anderson.
“Brian and Charles,” based on a short film showcased at South By Southwest in 2017, follows lonely misfit Brian. After a particular bout of depression, Brian invents a fully functioning robot, Charles, utilizing a washing machine, doll head, slinky arms, and flashing light. This robot becomes Brian’s little secret, even though Charles yearns for more from this world. What starts as a simple friendship grows into mutual respect as Charles challenges Brian to get out of his shell more and ask out that cute girl he likes. When the local bullies steal Charles, Brian must rescue his closest friend before they burn him alive.
The movie starts off real slow. It focuses on the simple things: Brian, his inventions, his relationship with the town, and everyone else around him. Over the first twenty minutes, we meet every major player. This first half of the film develops slowly and feels even slower. Earl’s dry humor works from time to time, although I can’t help feeling this movie might actually play funnier with a larger audience. It’s still insufficient to sustain the introductory paragraph to an otherwise exciting essay.
What helps this movie is David Earl’s total commitment to his role. I know that’s asking the bare minimum from actors, but what “Brian and Charles” does, what many other films don’t, is embrace its material. Some might be tempted to make jokes about Brian’s relationship with a handmade robot, but the movie never judges him. David Earl sells this relationship with every fiber of his being by laughing, smirking, scolding, and crying to what’s essentially a person in a cardboard box with a doll head on top. When taken at face value, its absurdity threatens to overwhelm the scene’s gravity, but Earl anchors us through sheer force of will.
The front half drags, but the back half sings. The film kicks into another gear when conflict, with real stakes, finally arises. Brian is forced to save Charles from the town bullies in a Campbell-esque story moment. This weirdo’s got to go up against the biggest asshole in town. Earl’s attempts are endearing and heartbreaking. He’s channeling real pain that reaches us: Brian could lose his best friend.
The film works in most corners, except when its documentary aesthetic rears its ugly head. Naturally, to make a movie this low budget would require some cut corners, and this movie does so by feigning a documentary (for who? Why?), which works except in the bobbling camera work. So much on-screen is intentionally crafted: the production design, the sets, the costumes, the robot. We get plenty of gorgeous establishing wide shots, but whenever the action picks up, the camera team follows it like it’s a World War Two movie. The camera whips and bobbles so aggressively that I felt minor nausea spiking up. Even in quieter moments, the camera dances on its toes, unsure of where it’s supposed to be. It works as a setup dynamic for the beginning of the movie but distracts at several critical moments in the film. Honestly, the film works its best in the climax, partially because the camera is much more still.
“Brian and Charles” surprised me with how much I care about our protagonist and his robot. The lonely-guy-invents-a-friend story might slowly be a new trope in this modern era, and this movie adores its hero. The mild touches of humor lift this film from time to time, and after the slow beginning, it picks up speed, turning into a well-told story with a lovable protagonist way in over his head.
In Theaters Friday, June 17th
