Funny Ha Ha (2002)

A little nervous, always cracking jokes: Funny Ha Ha ​review

Funny Ha Ha | Directed by Andrew Bujalski | 2002 | 89 minutes

by Hazel Cochrane

Two friends sit in a near-empty diner. They had previously agreed to meet up to talk more about where their relationship stands — but they don’t end up touching on that topic at all. Instead, they try to make each other laugh, playing with food, smiling awkwardly, desperately trying not to run out of funny things to do and say. They laugh at each others’ forced jokes, and their own. Alex starts telling Marnie she’s crazy. Marnie says, “What do I do now?” Alex says, “I don’t know. Make some fart noises or something. Well, you don’t have to, but it’s always funny”.

Andrew Bujalski's mumblecore classic Funny Ha Ha is full of things that we actually laugh at every day, and wish we didn't have to. Long-lasting close-up shots of characters' faces during nonsensical, dreadfully long conversations make the audience much too aware of these peoples’ struggle to be present and always say the right thing. You can even feel the pressure to make the right amount of eye contact in almost every interaction throughout the film. Bujalski ventures to depict things visually how they are, and make his audience feel exactly how the characters do in those uncomfortable situations. It’s shot simply, on a very modest budget, driven by the goofy and honest performance of Kate Dollenmeyer as Marnie. We become familiar with each character’s distinctive body language, what their tics are. Anyone watching Funny Ha Ha will be hit hard with the pain of desperately trying to make others laugh, or be pleasant, or fit into the image your friends have of you.

Marnie walks through the film with long arms dangling at her sides, bobbing her head, smiling goofily. She’s always out of a job, and goes to lots of parties. Her friends say she’s the most spontaneous person they know.  She spends most of her time with her hipster friends, her unrequited crush Alex, and Mitchell, played by director Andrew Bujalski, an awkward guy who hovers over her at work, trying to converse, constantly apologizing. While Marnie tries to spend time with and hopefully build a relationship with Alex, otherwise drifting through life fairly aimlessly, Mitchell becomes progressively more forward with Marnie, who deflects his advances as politely as she can, trying to save the potential they have to be good friends. Mitchell eventually becomes demanding of Marnie’s attention and enthusiasm, in a drawn-out scene that will have viewers seething. Her other friendships in this film are portrayed very realistically: some seem close, or like they want to help her out, and are revealed later to be completely ingenuine; others exist in a gray zone. Marnie feels and acts differently around different people, but no matter who she’s with, she’s the same old Marnie: a little nervous, always cracking jokes.

Some kind of drastic change, or explosion of pent-up anger might satisfy viewers better — but Bujalski doesn’t want to symbolize emotions through revolution. He wants to show the real thing, which is that personal growth often happens gradually. Marnie — like every human to some degree — just wants the people in her life to like her. Funny Ha Ha is an engaging film that will leave anyone feeling seen.