Movie: The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

Arlen Konopaki and Mike Robertson's debut film The Greatest Love Story Ever Told is pretty similar to a host of Edmonton's recent slew of low-budget comedy flicks; subversively funny, comfortable on the eyes, and giggling nervously due to the stress. It's a charming love story between Rutiger, a doctor with enough baggage to go around, and Merv, the long-suffering woman who steals his heart. It's a romantic comedy caught in an ironic trap, more concerned with the laughs than with the romance, but it's a forgivable omission when the humour itself is so engaging. Instead, the film runs into problems running as a two-hour comedy.

TGLSET starts off on a giddy, full-blown cynical note: taking its cue from The Princess Bride, a kindly older man sits at the foot of a sick kid's bed to read him a romantic fairytale. Unlike Princess Bride, however, the man is not related, not invited, chloroforms the kid and knocks the mother down beating his hasty retreat. It's a damn funny scene; it's also a pretty appropriate blueprint for every scene that follows it. Konopaki and Robertson set up a situation, give it a comic twist, do something even more shocking, and then run screaming from the joke. It gets results short-term, but this is a two-hour movie we're dealing with. You need to space out whip-crack jokes with subtler approaches, or it becomes a bit too much over the course of the evening.

Or maybe it's a sign of the times that Family Guy is now old enough to be considered an artistic influence. TGLSET's humour relies on quick set-ups and throw-away flashbacks, letting the script ultimately dictate the storyboard and final edit, and this handicaps the movie's ability to tell the story as well as it could. When as much of the movie (and its humour) relies on the audience knowing when Rutiger and Merv are meeting, together, broken up or on the mend, the sudden (and sometimes random) chapter-flipping is downright confusing.

As the childish and mercurial Rutiger, Konopaki shines; he combines likeability and bug-eyed craziness in a way that works, and the movie keeps him busy flaunting his comic chops. Tia Chambers plays Merv as a sweet, almost-inflappable pixie. Unfortunately, it's very much the boys' movie--other than being everyone's object of affection, Chambers has very little to do, an unfortunate inequality that hinders the couples chemistry. If Margaret Dumont were still alive, she would have done quite fine here, but you're not supposed to like Margaret Dumont. Beyond that, tons of local funnymen and friends fill out the cast in a blink-and-you'll-miss-them parade, and most do well with what they're given. I especially loved Marc Shulte's supporting role as the self-centered and cruel best friend Zander.

The biggest laughs of the night came from a fantasy sequence shot entirely in silent movie style; it was corny as hell, but they also kept it simple and lavished more care on their jokes. And that should hopefully prove to be informative for Konopaki and Robertson: ultimately, it's a movie that's about as strong as the lessons they've learned while shooting the movie.

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told is strong for a debut movie. I want to see more, and the packed house it played to was undoubtedly into it. So see the film--and support a local production--but if you check your head at the door, you'll probably enoy it better.

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told runs at the Princess Theatre (10337 - 82 Avenue) through May 5th.

(And incidentally, the soundtrack is provided by the filmmaker's band, The Corduroys, and kicks your ass. It's a little cart-before-the-horse, but they really did well with the music.)