Standup comedians recasting themselves as credible dramatic actors via the medium of film is a familiar rite of passage. On the same day that the veteran Australian rib tickler Carl Barron makes his angsty big screen debut in the romantic drama Manny Lewis, another semi-autobiographical and mildly existential film hinging on a comic questioning why his life feels empty also opens on Australian screens: Chris Rock’s directorial kick-off Top Five.
Both performers come from a line of funny people who turned serious or sort of serious (think Robin Williams, Eric Bana, Whoopi Goldberg, Will Smith). The key difference here is this isn’t the first time Barron has started acting with range, but his first time acting full stop: outside theatrical flourishes incorporated into routines performed in halls and pubs, the baby-faced 50-year-old is new to the game.
His cinematic debut is more downbeat than fans might expect, and his co-authorship of Manny Lewis’s screenplay no doubt a large part of the reason it feels so authentic. Barron plays the titular character, a celebrity standup on the brink of signing a lucrative contract with US talent agents, though his heart is more interested in a good woman than a good deal.
Manny is famous but lonely, a sad sack who can’t be bothered to mingle at house parties but, out of pent-up frustration, sparks up a phone relationship with a sex hotline worker. The twist is that the woman on the other end of the line is Maria (Leeanna Walsman), the same person he meets in a cafe and begins dating.
Maria realises the connection but keeps it to herself. Their phone conversations become pseudo counselling sessions in which Manny expresses his fears of intimacy and minor quibbles about his new relationship, while Maria surreptitiously collects dating tips from the same person she’s seeing.
Manager and close friend Jimmy (Damien Garvey) encourages Manny to get some work-life balance and have a family, which could have given this side character an interesting conflict if only he had contemplated following his own advice rather than pursuing his business interests.
Instead, the drama revolves squarely around Manny. Barron cuts an affable lead: a forlorn chump with a sad clown twist, walking around with hands in proverbial pockets, viewing the world as a landscape littered with things that alienate and depress him. The pricklier bits manifest as deep-seated issues between Manny and his father, Lyle (Roy Billing, who counters Barron’s newcomer energy with seasoned gravitas).
The standup-cum-actor’s range is pushed a little too far – he’s not quite at the point where he can punch a mirror and convey the requisite emotions, though kudos for giving it a crack – but it’s a compelling achievement with more than a hint of pathos. He’s also surrounded by the right kind of support. Walsman is a wonderfully understated love interest, with a warmth that offsets her co-star’s neurosis and a sexy everyday charm that prioritises subtle body language over big romantic gestures.
Anthony Mir’s direction hooks itself wholeheartedly on to the film’s earthy heart-on-sleeve romance. Shots of the Sydney Opera House approach overkill and there are moments as contrived as a last-minute airport run, but Manny Lewis hangs together in a way that never feels too manufactured. The film should draw an appreciative response from audiences partial to a romantic coming-of-age story positioned further down the track then most.
