Happy Go Lucky

What is the relationship of the character to the plot? Is the character merely a means of advancing the plot? Or is the plot merely a journey through which the character will grow? Most would argue that a harmonious balance between the two is the recipe for a watchable movie. Mike Leigh doesn't often agree. Like the great Antonioni before him, he favors people over plot. The people in his movies are everyday people who, through his lense, say something about the world they live in. But most often, they just say something about people.
To work in the service industry is to work with people, period. Everyday I see the spectrum of moods, and each person exudes that spectrum from day to day. But there are a few creatures who seem to operate on one end of the spectrum entirely. They never come in, engage in conversation, or leave without a smile on their face. A genuine, ear to ear, endless ray of sunshine smile. One day on the bus, a man near the front was facing me near the back and smiling. The distance was such that it seemed as if he was just smiling at me. Was he crazy? Was he eccentric and trying to cheer up my dour, "I'm riding the bus to work" face? He looked like he was from somewhere in Africa, where black skin can be as dark as night. The darkness of his skin made his teeth the whitest I have ever seen. Whiter than snow. Whiter than Stephen Colbert. And he was smiling right at me. He wouldn't stop. And after some time, it made me smile. It was so funny. I couldn't help grinning the whole rest of the ride. And the punchline: he was talking to someone right next to him the whole time, smiling at them, not me! Regardless, the smile has an underrated power. In an increasingly crowded society, it shows a subtle strength in the face of people's dourness.
It's the kind of strength that our protagonist, Poppy, carries with her throughout Leigh's latest, 'Happy Go Lucky'. She's a doting grade school teacher who wears clothes as colorful as she is. She talks a mile a minute, jokes constantly, and addresses any obstacle with an effortless smile that suggests everything will be alright. For Poppy, the glass is not half-full - it's completely full. This benevolence and energy spark to life in the hands of Sally Hawkins. With her raven-like hair and wider-than-most mouth, she has a striking resemblance to PJ Harvey. But unlike Harvey, she has a natural radiance that makes us feel she was born unto the role.
Of course, Poppy's benevolence is tested by those she comes into contact with. Otherwise, how can she learn something over the course of her journey? This lesson comes in the form of Scott, her Saturday driving instructor. He is the polar opposite of Poppy: almost totally joyless, misanthropic, refuses to shake hands, and never smiles. Scott is so dour in fact that he notices '666' in the height of the Washington Monument and uses a character in satanic mythology as a teaching tool; "En ra ha"!, he repeats endlessly. He bitches about Poppy's unfit boots, screams over her lack of focus, and meets all of her jokes with silence and distain. Their mismatched ways are seen immediately, but both actors play it so well that it manages to get funnier with each scene. Scott is played by Eddie Marsan, who exudes his character so totally it makes you wonder if he enjoyed the role at all. He never pauses in his ruminations about the world around him and every other student that gets into his cab. There is no cheering Scott up. Marsan has proven himself such a versatile actor that few probably recognize all the big films he's been in up to this point. Here he's way too hard to miss.
As with most confrontations between such contradictory characters in movies, we're expecting Poppy to enlighten Scott, right? Well, maybe he does. But Poppy is the one who walks away from their explosive climax a little wiser. Simply put, Scott snaps. "You have to be adored"! he yells while professing how unhappy her happiness makes him. It's the only time in the film we see Poppy completely taken out of her positive demeanor, and we're able to see that her tendency to inflict her feelings on others is just as good natured as it is inconsiderate of theirs. Whether the disgruntled book store clerk or the homeless man Poppy tries to talk to, her need to connect with others on her level leaves little room for theirs. In the end, nobody has to be so sunny just because she thinks they should be. But one can't help walking away from the film feeling more determined to look a little harder for the silver lining.