Sixty Six

Note: I wrote this review after screening this film for the 2008 San Francisco Film Festival, and saved it as a draft, waiting for a theatrical release that never happened. I’ve discovered today that it’s available for instant streaming on Netflix, so I’m posting it now.

B Coming-of-age comedy

• Written by Peter Straughan and Bridget O’Connor, from a story by Paul Weiland
• Directed by Paul Weiland

Twelve-year-old Bernie (Gregg Sulkin) feels invisible and insignificant, so he naturally looks forward to his Bar Mitzvah. Not only will this English lad become a man, but he’ll be the center of attention at a party at least as big and lavish as the one his parents threw for his older brother. Everyone will praise and worship him.

Except that everything that can go wrong with the family’s finances does, making first a lavish party impossible, and even a modest one. To make things worse, Bernie’s Bar Mitzvah must compete for people’s attention with soccer’s Super Bowl, the World Cup. If England makes it through the qualifying rounds, few will bother attending the Bar Mitzvah. The movie is set in London in 1966, and presumably a large part of its original audience went in knowing that England made it to the World Cup that year.

Despite the title, the 1960’s play only a minimal role in Paul Weiland’s autobiographical comedy. Beatlemania makes no appearance, and mods don’t battle rockers in the streets. Weiland and his writers concern themselves almost exclusively with the struggles of a family hitting the skits, as seen through the eyes of a boy sure that he’s as much of a loser as he believes his father to be.

It doesn’t help that Bernie’s father sees himself that way. Socially awkward, he strips to his underwear before eating and seems afraid of everything. He also deeply resents his older brother’s wit and social grace. Insecure to begin with, he’s incapable of coping with the slow death of his business. Eddie Marsan, a short, squat actor who looks vaguely familiar but isn’t well-known on this side of the Atlantic, pulls off the part as if he was born to it.

Weiland cast better-known actors in less showy roles. The always-wonderful Helena Bonham Carter plays Bernie’s sympathetic and long-suffering mother–a large role but not one that required her considerable talents. And Stephen Rea plays a doctor–an asthma specialist–who becomes a refuge from Bernie’s miseries.

The other adult to provide solace is Bernie’s blind rabbi (Richard Katz). He clearly cares for the boy, and helps him not only with his study but with his emotional turmoil. Unfortunately, the rabbi’s guide dog provides a couple of pointless and unfunny doggy-doo jokes.

Most of the humor works quite well within the context of the story. This isn’t Death at a Funeral; the laughs are neither non-stop nor the primary reason to see the movie. But they add levity to what could have been a very sad story.

The filmmakers wisely avoid a Hollywood ending. Not that Sixty Six ends tragically–far from it–but the impossibly wonderful turn of events we’ve learned to expect from the movies never quite materializes. The ending leaves Bernie wiser, more mature, and perhaps even a bit happier. Isn’t that what a movie, and a Bar Mitzvah, are for?