Bernie

He's An Angel Alright. An Angel of Death.

To my knowledge, I don't know any murderers. But I have to imagine Bernie Tiede is the most lovable,  angelic, and affable person to have ever shot an 81 year old woman in the back four times. Linklater, who has provided us with such memorable films as Slacker, Dazed and Confused, Tape, and School of Rock among others, has brought us a sly, dark comedy about a saintly man driven to the edge of sanity and finally being pushed past the breaking point.

The film opens with Bernie giving a lecture about how to dress and present ("cosmetize") the deceased for a funeral. Bernie is an expert at his job. He goes into such detail that he insists the "left hand must be over the right. Over the umbilicus. In an attitude of ease, of repose, of retirement." He's a perfectionist when it comes his job as a mortician. Or, excuse me, he prefers "funeral director."

I should note, this is likely Jack Black's greatest performance. He's subtle. Never goes over the top. Linklater worked with Black in the vastly different, but still enjoyable, School of Rock. But here, Black goes out of the box to embody a man who upon meeting will immediately become your best friend, and yet is capable of something as atrocious as murder. Roger Ebert said in his review of this film, "why did [Linklater] make this film? I suspect he read the magazine article and knew it was a natural movie. Anyone could have seen that. His genius was to see Jack Black as Bernie Tiede." I couldn't agree more.  

Linklater, along with co-writer Skip Hollandsworth (best name ever), have interlaced interviews with Carthage, Texas locals who knew Bernie around town with the past narrative of how Bernie came to befriend Marjorie Nugent and ultimately become what amounted to nothing more than her slave, and his ultimate murder of Marjorie. Members of the community regarded Bernie in highly; one fellow townsman dubbed him "the most popular guy in the county." The owner of the funeral loved Bernie; to him, he was a "great find." Bernie even came up with the idea, for $150 extra, to have a dove released into the world as the casket of your beloved was lowered. Bernie wanted to send everybody off into the afterlife in style.

Marjorie, on the other hand, wasn't as popular as Bernie. One citizen said of her: "she'd rip you a new, three bedroom, two bath, double wide asshole." Her own sister expressed that she should probably love Marjorie, but "she's so damn mean."

Bernie took a liking to her. He brought her condolences. Only to get the door slammed in his face. But he wasn't a man to give up, and eventually Marjorie invited him inside, and they struck up a friendship. Bernie was rarely seen talking to women his own age - "women his age were lucky to get the time of day." It was rumored he was gay. District Attorney Danny Davidson (Matthew McConaughey, in a subtlety hilarious and brilliant performance) noted "[Bernie] had a subscription to Men's Fitness magazines, and if you saw Bernie, you know darn well it wasn't for the fitness tips." Nobody cared, though. He was too well-liked.

It's no secret, even before reading this, that eventually Bernie murders Marjorie by shooting her four times in the back. It's a moment of impulse that he immediately regrets afterward. I imagine it's something like that momentary impulse to jump off a bridge if you knew it wouldn't kill you, or you know, hurt like hell. Except in Bernie's case, he was past the point of control, and pulled the trigger. He immediately confessed (after nine months of lying and dodging suspicion).

The film was not as well received by residents of Carthage, Texas, some of whom knew Marjorie. They argue it didn't tell her side of the story. They argue it glorifies murder. I can't disagree with the first assessment, but this is hardly a glorification of murder or violence. It's a blackly comic study of a man, pushed to the breaking point when placed in a position of utter dependence; a man who never tried to deny his crime, but took responsibility for it, and never once felt sorry for himself. Not because he was proud of what he did. But because that's who he was. A man who'd make mistakes and accept the consequences. In that way, Bernie is exemplary of who we should all be - without making such an irreversible, horrible mistake.

My favorite line comes from one of the townsfolk waitresses, as she's talking to D.A. Davidson, trying to persuade him to acquit Bernie: "It's not as bad as people say. He only shot her four times. Not five."

***1/2