Review by Jacquelin Hipes
Harold Buttleman (John Hawkes) esteems “professional risk taker” Evel Kinevel so much that he too wants to become a stuntman. It’s a difficult trade to practice from behind the counter of a tuxedo shop, yet when Harold isn’t fitting formal wear he’s busy chasing the dream with friend and cameraman Doug (Stephen Falk). Prioritizing his burgeoning career over almost everything else—including such trivial concerns like the relationship with his girlfriend Wendy (Anita Barone) and moving out of his parents’ basement—Harold spends all of his free time either performing stunts or talking about performing stunts.
Much to the chagrin of his friends and family, Harold isn’t the kind of man to let an utter lack of talent stand in his way. His exploits balloon in concept yet remain laughably tame: a dangerous car jump with a ramp six inches high; a motorcycle jump through a flaming hoop that involves an ancient scooter, a massive hoop, and not much of a jump; an early morning roll down a gentle slope in a tractor tire. He commits each feat to tape with the hope of impressing the local television station into giving him a show. And that personal life he continues to ignore? It only gets worse. His parents are selling their house, which means his rent-free basement crash pad will soon vanish. And after Wendy accepts Harold’s proposal, she suddenly expects him to act like a responsible adult.
Buttleman was originally released in 2003, and you can tell. Muddling through its plot, Buttleman operates in the same theater of humor that made Napoleon Dynamite such a roaring success one year later. Harold and all those around him are utterly unremarkable, and their deadpan approach to the engrossing trivialities of life is played for humor. How funny you find writer/director Francis Stokes’ picture likely hinges on your experience of the more recognizable cult hit, and even then it may be touch and go.
There are also shades of The Room, a fellow early-aughts release, at work. Some conversations manage to conjure weirdness and banality at the same time, while a slapdash love triangle sends Buttleman veering into melodrama territory in its final minutes. The dark shift gives one temporary pause: is there actually some kind of metatextual statement being made through Harold Buttleman and his exploits? Unfortunately, by the time that possibility arises, most might be too bored to care.
If you find dopey guys doing generally dopey things hilarious, or wondered why every comedy didn’t start emulating Napoleon Dynamite, then Buttleman may fit the bill. For everyone else, however, Harold and his stunts will impress viewers about as much as his highlights reel would the casting directors in Hollywood.
