She brakes for rainbows

Here's a name: Poppy Cross. She's a woman whose sunniness we must bear. As played by the marvelous Sally Hawkins in Mike Leigh's film Happy-Go-Lucky, Poppy Cross is the proverbial cockeyed optimist. Every new day is, for her, an opportunity for pursuing further happiness. Unfortunately, she often wants to spread her personal brand of joy to others who may have a quite different outlook on life.

Poppy is irrepressible to the point of being annoying and obtrusive. Any comment made to her, whether in passing or of some seriousness, is occasion for lame stabs at wit or double entendres as retorts. For many, it would be an exercise of will not to push her out of a moving car. Quiet is seemingly as foreign to Poppy as depression or concern.

I hedge with "seemingly," as, in one scene in Leigh's film, Poppy seeks out an addled, mentally fragmented street person to josh into a state of cheer. As always, heedless of danger, Poppy places herself in a situation that could put her at risk, determined to communicate her happiness to the unfortunate, rambling hulk of a man. Yet even for this living embodiment of "Have a happy day," there's a moment in the encounter that switches off the ever-ready smile and leaves Poppy wondering aloud, "What am I doing?" Her grinning infectiousness is like an infection even to her.

The homeless man is a mere episode in Poppy's otherwise charmed life, filled, as it is, with flamenco classes, trampoline sessions and pub nights out with her friends - many of whom edge toward the "slag" category, though this would never occur to the naive Poppy. But this very naiveté of accepting everyone on an equal footing will be painfully put to the test when she meets a racist and misogynist driving instructor, one who also subscribes to some of the more outlandish conspiracy theories.

This man, Scott, is damaged goods, indeed. He's a squat Cockney whose mother moved up in the world by relocating to the dull council estates of Stevenage. Scott is Holly's exact opposite, and, therefore, her greatest challenge to change. Behind the wheel of Scott's car, Poppy fancies herself to be a Brenda Holiday, the cheerful young woman from the B-52s song of the same name, who "brakes for rainbows." Scott knows no brakes.

Snarling and sputtering raw thoughts on life's frustrations and unfairness, Scott is an example of road rage straining at its buckles on the passenger side. Still, after every training session ends, and with it Scott's poisonous asides and abusive shouts at his pupil, Poppy perkily pops her head through the window to say, "Same time next week, yeah?" As with her encounter with the madman, we too have to ask: What is she doing?

This is the central conflict in Leigh's finely observed film, powerfully struggled over by Hawkins' Poppy and Eddie Marsan's Scott. There is great sympathy for the wounded Scott, of course, as there was for David Thewlis' vicious, suffering character in Leigh's remarkable film Naked. The primary problem with Happy-Go-Lucky lies in the fact that Marsan, a potent performer, will always seem more real for us (and, therefore, more deserving of our attention) than Poppy, whom Hawkins sadly overplays.

This is a problem that erupts in many of Leigh's films, where the director insists upon his actors improvising. Too often, Leigh's female characters will spill over into caricature. In his film High Hopes, actresses Lesley Manville and Heather Tobias both became parodies of women. In Career Girls, the excellent, much-missed Katrin Cartlidge became unwatchable, off, as she was, in full-flight over the top.

Now it's Hawkins pushing her character far too much, leaving Poppy's innate cheerfulness looking like something derived from a few too many hits of lithium.

This is obviously a failing in Leigh, though I very much doubt it stems from any unexamined misogyny. Yet how to explain the well-honed performances he achieves with his men versus the often cartoonish quality that emerges from his women? Three-quarters of the film is Hawkins, and yet one walks away thinking about Marsan's impeccable work, even days later.

Happy-Go-Lucky is a classic Leigh comedy, which means it comes with much bitterness. Poppy's unmoored glee aside, all the other characters in the film have to contend with disappointments and anguish, though no one has to contend with the weight Scott bears - weight that Poppy, who can blithely move past her driving instructor's deep pain, easily tosses aside and forgets on her way to finding a few moments of extra fun rowing on a lake in a park.

Steffen Silvis can be reached at
ssilvis@praguepost.com