Jean-Marc Vallée, director and co-writer ( with François Boulay ) of C.R.A.Z.Y., says he likes to have his expectations confounded when he watches a movie—so it's natural he would do the same for audiences when he makes one.
At first, C.R.A.Z.Y. recalls Ma Vie en Rose, the Belgian film about a boy who knows he's queer at an early age and has no problem with it, even though everyone around him is freaking out. It's also got enough elements of magic, magic realism and surrealism to suggest another Amelie. And with Vallée's offbeat humor, we seem to be in for a most pleasant experience.
Well, yes. It's pleasant because it's a good movie, but most of the fun and magic wear off quickly as things get more and more serious. It's the story of a gay man's coming out, but he goes through a slow, painful process that overstays its welcome by a few minutes.
Zac is born just after midnight on Christmas Eve, 1960, the fourth of five sons of Gervais ( Michel Côté ) and Laurianne Beaulieu ( Danielle Proulx ) , French-Canadian Catholics who never miss midnight mass on Christmas Eve unless they're giving birth. After mass, the family gathers for a party.
The three older brothers are diverse types: Christian, the oldest, is a bookworm, Antoine is a jock and Raymond, Zac tells us, is 'my sworn enemy.' Indeed, Raymond will develop substance abuse problems that will provide the family with the most shame that a heterosexual son can administer.
By the time Zac ( Émile Vallée ) is six, Gervais is already worried that he'll be 'une fifi' ( 'a fairy' ) . This is reinforced the next year when he finds the boy trying on his mother's clothes and jewelry. Rather than being comfortable with who he is, Zac connects not being a fairy with being loved by his father and works at repressing his instincts.
Laurianne thinks Zac has a gift for healing and confirms it with the local mystic, known only as 'The Tupperware Lady.' Because the gift involves prayer, it will soon be nullified when Zac loses his faith because he can't cure his own bedwetting.
Zac is played from the ages of 15 through 21, an amazing range for one actor to cover, by Marc-André Grondin. As he mimics the songs of David Bowie and the moves of Bruce Lee, it's easy to see why his brothers call him 'une tapette' ( 'a faggot' ) , especially when that's what they call everyone they don't like.
Around this time Zac acquires a girlfriend, Michelle ( Natasha Thompson ) , who develops a crush on his cousin, Brigitte ( Mariloup Wolfe ) —or is it her boyfriends he's attracted to? They seem to be included in his fantasies about her.
The harder Zac fights, including beating up the school queer in an effort to purge his own queerness, the more everyone else assumes Zac is queer. It seems everyone knows—except Zac.
His journey has more stops to make, some of them overseas, before he reaches his final destination and can make a movie about it. C.R.A.Z.Y. may not be autobiographical, but it feels more real in many respects than Jonathan Caouette's alleged documentary, Tarnation, and certainly comes closer to the experiences of Everygay.
The soundtrack includes favorites of Zac—Bowie, Pink Floyd and the Rolling Stones—as well as those of his father, which include Charles Aznavour and Patsy Cline. Although the latter's song, Crazy, is heard several times, it's not the origin of the title. The answer to that mystery is revealed in the closing credits and earns the movie extra points for one last confounding of expectations.
C.R.A.Z.Y. is one of the best queer things to come out of Canada since k.d. lang.
