>> Todd Solondz follows up Welcome to the Dollhouse with Happiness, the most twisted comic melodrama of the year

by MATTHEW HAYS

A scream was heard as Todd Solondz took to the stage after the Toronto International Film Fest premiere of his latest film, Happiness. "FREAK!" a man yelled, apparently at the top of his lungs. Undaunted, Solondz proceeded with the question-and-answer session with the audience.

But the following day, Solondz stated his distaste for such a label quite bluntly. "I don't see myself that way," he said. "I find that really offensive. If I walk down the street and someone has an epitaph to call me, it does not give me pleasure."

But the name-calling will undoubtedly heat up for Solondz, as Happiness gets its North American release late this month (after its Montreal premiere at the New Film Fest). It is, by far, the most audacious film of the year, a bizarre melange of family melodrama, gross-out humour and insane subplots. Louise Lasser (Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman) and Ben Gazarra play the matriarch and patriarch, in the throes of marital breakup. Their three daughters, played by Cynthia Stevenson, Lara Flynn Boyle and Jane Adams, are all desperately seeking some kind of happiness. The film's title, of course, is absurdly ironic. Solondz treats his characters comically, but there's little joy to be found in these people's nasty and desperate lives.

With his second feature, Welcome to the Dollhouse, Solondz illustrated his unique ability to convey sad, pathetic characters with a biting wit. That film's protagonist, Dawn Wiener, instantly became a classic character, a lightning rod for identification for anyone who'd ever felt like an outsider in grade school (i.e. all of us). But with his latest, Solondz has upped the ante. Happiness's many subplots include themes of murder, rape and incest. And in what is surely the film's most salacious plot, Solondz includes tales of a predatory pedophile.

On the fest circuit, crowds tend to be pretty open-minded. And critics, generally shell-shocked from all the mediocre pap flushing out of Hollywood studios year round, are only too happy to see an oddity like Happiness. The film won a unanimous vote for International Critic's Prize at Cannes, and it has been compared to such cinematic landmarks as Boogie Nights, Pulp Fiction and Blue Velvet. The auteur behind it is the latest darling of the critics.

But the suits over at Universal Studios, whose subsidiary, October Films, produced the film, were soon getting mighty nervous about what might be perceived as an all-out assault on American family values (they may be right). They ordered October to drop the film from its release list. Good Machine, co-producers of the film, bought it back from October and are distributing the film themselves.

The peoria problem

Trouble like this, of course, is a mixed blessing. Universal's move hands wads of publicity to Happiness, as well as dealing Solondz heaps of additional alterna-cred. But Solondz is deeply concerned about the how-will-it-play-in-Peoria question. He's already been troubled by some of the interpretations of the film--a natural outcome of his ambiguous style, which allows for multiple readings of the story and his take on his characters. Indeed, Solondz has been so affronted by some of the reactions to Happiness, he has taken to breaking one of the cardinal rules of filmmaker interviews: he's been carefully explaining his movie to virtually everyone he talks to.

"When I was at the Telluride festival, this college kid came up to me one night and said, 'I loved your movie and I've gotta tell you this joke.' I was not sure what to say; he proceeded to tell me this joke and he said he thought I'd appreciate it. I was taken aback because it was incredibly off-colour, terribly crass and ugly. What pained me is that he would think, after making this movie, that I would respond to that kind of joke.

"For me, the movie may have a kind of humour. It may be funny in many ways, but it's never a joke. I don't think one can be flip about these kind of issues, which are terribly serious. At the same time I don't think the film would be bearable if it didn't allow for some humour. It's a very tricky, difficult movie. I don't feel comfortable with it being seen as this hip, cool movie. The things that go on are very serious. If the audience simply sees them as a bunch of freaks, then I will have failed."

Solondz has drawn comparisons to John Waters, David Lynch and even Harmony Korine (Gummo). But those directors, while occasionally compassionate, are often interested in presenting characters as out-and-outright freaks. Solondz attempts to promote the idea of compassion--something audiences will undoubtedly find difficult with scenes involving a pedophile.

Sympathy for the devil?

But the pedophile subplot, in fact, supplies Happiness with its moral centre (I know, it sounds crazy. See the movie). It also allows Solondz a bit of stylistic gear-shifting, virtually unparalleled in film history. For much of the film, the man's obsession with boys is treated with humour; but in the eleventh hour, Solondz has his pedophile (played brilliantly by Dylan Baker) confess his acts to his barely pubescent son (Rufus Read), in what is one of the most heartwrenching scenes ever captured on celluloid. Solondz effectively moves from irony and absurdism to unrelenting realism, proving nothing is more horrifying than the bold truth.

"People have asked, 'How could you let a child act in this movie?' His parents discussed it with him. I would much rather my child be in this movie than selling detergent in a commercial. Which I do find obscene. That would have far more of an insidious effect on a child, where there is no dignity."

Solondz admits he did no research into pedophilia before writing the screenplay (this is not a public service announcement, he explains). He did look closely at some classic films for guidance. "Fritz Lang's M really held a lot for me. At the end of the movie, the townsfolk, whose children have been killed by Peter Lorre, surround him, and it's the townsfolk who become the monster, and Lorre that one's heart goes out to.

"I also thought of the book Lolita--it's an hilarious tragedy. They were quite specific about the girl being young, a child. Kubrick couldn't quite do that in the film. But I feel if you're going to tell a story about such a thing, you're going to have to face it head on." (Solondz hasn't seen Adrian Lyne's version yet).

Solondz concedes he's bracing for the coming storm. "The thing I have done is get my number changed to an unlisted one, because there are some crazies out there. The press of course at these festivals tend to be of a more liberal persuasion. I don't know if this is going to show up on the moral conservatives' radar or not.

"I honestly hope this Monica Lewinsky stuff will keep them busy."

Happiness premieres as part of the New Film Festival, which runs October 15­25. Info: 843-6560, www.fcmm.com