down a shamrock field of Irish accents.
With its forklift force that could peel the skin off a tank, Garofalo's
tone (clarion nasal) is some sound in the Old Sod. This prompts a villager,
eyes a-twinkle, voice dripping with Joycean bonhomie, to compliment her
"lovely speaking voice."
Garofalo, all brown eyes and sunshine smile, her pillowy body firmly braced
by intelligence, is no meager gift to movies. It's rare for a TV talent to
move to the more lavish screen without seeming smaller. "The Matchmaker"
gets a lot from her.
Directed by Mark Joffe, whose "Cosi" previewed but did not open here, "The
Matchmaker" is mostly set in a charming coastal town of Eire famed for a
festival where matchmakers unite hopeful and reputed virgins with young
men, for marriage. Though fueled by pub crawling, it's no dating service --
the Catholic Church hovers, and photos of the pope gaze sternly on
proceedings.
To the town comes Marcy, campaign operator looking for the Gaelic roots of
U.S. Senator John McGlory (Jay O. Sanders), a smiling, footballish dolt.
His slogan is "Hey Ho -- Let's Go!," and he is given to impulse remarks
like, "Look, I'm on TV."
Perhaps not since the Republican in John Ford's 1958 broth pot of Boston
politics, "The Last Hurrah," has there been a candidate so doofy. Sanders'
big noggin beams like a lighthouse as he says, "If we play our cards right,
I'm gonna end up like Kennedy . . . umh, alive."
McGlory fancies that flaunting his ancestry will rescue his dubious
re-election. It's not clear how he got elected in the first place, even in
Massachusetts (they may like Irish pols, but they're not notably stupid).
Nor is it clear why Marcy toils for him and his campaign manager (Denis
Leary), an acid pill of routine cynicism.
Marcy moves into the tiniest crib room of a hotel during festival time, and
strives to find McGlory nuggets in the local soil. That allows the story to
conduct a display of Irishness rivaling Ford's "The Quiet Man." Not half so
much style this time, but emerald sights, and horses and singing contests
and a visit to Aran, plus pub brawls and village quirkballs (one, famished
for sex, tries to kill himself in a tanning salon, "burning like Joan of
Arc").
Irish stew
The very veteran Milo O'Shea, his arched eyebrows the best since union
leader John L. Lewis died and left his brow crop to the West Virginia Coal
Museum and Facial Hair Conservatory, plays the most cherubic of the
matchmakers. This would have been the Barry Fitzgerald role, had Ford
filmed, and O'Shea lays it on thick. He also has one of the most poignant
film exits of the year, impossible if we had not come to genuinely enjoy
his character.
There's beauteous Maria Doyle Kennedy as the innkeeper, absolutely gorgeous
Saffron Burrows as a local Kennedy, and buoyantly rumpled, ale-lubed David
O'Hara as a journalist retired to bartending. He, of course, develops a
vivid need for Marcy, melting her from brisk, careerist remarks like "I
long to fax someone."
Even though the chemistry of this congenial comedy remains transparent, and
some of the laughs are corny, we can relish the nuances that Garofalo and
other players bring to it. "The Matchmaker" (no relation to the old
Thornton Wilder play) is springy in spirit and completely free of
pretension.
This film tries to do for an Irish setting what "Local Hero" did for a
Scottish town, and it lacks that supple arc of wit and impishness. It's a
pleasant jumble of episodes, light on story, but the appeal of the people
and the collective warmth (plus singing, and a funny dog) make it as
satisfying a quick visit to Ireland as you can get now without air tickets.
A Gramercy Pictures release. Director: Mark Joffe. Writers: Karen Janszen,
Louis Nowra, Graham Linehan. Cinematographer: Ellery Ryan. Composer: John
Altman. Cast: Janeane Garofalo, David O'Hara, Jay O. Sanders, Milo O'Shea,
Denis Leary.
MOVIE REVIEW
"The Matchmaker"
Rated R. Opens tomorrow.
* * *