Max and Grace

MAX AND GRACE, AKA My Suicidal Sweetheart
(Michael Parness, USA, 2005, 91 mins.)

Ever since Harold and Maude became one of the more surprising hits of the 1970s, one young American filmmaker after another has hoped and prayed lightning would strike twice and that they'd be blessed with their own personal cult classic. While there have been a few sparks here and there, for the most part, it hasn't.

The concept should've scared me away from the start, but I decided to give Max
and Grace a try due to the fine work much of its cast has done elsewhere: Natasha Lyonne in The Slums of Beverly Hills, Lorraine Bracco on The Sopranos, etc.

Alas, Michael Parrish's feature film debut is one in a long line of calculatedly quirky rom-coms that feel more cynical than sincere. The premise, in brief, is this: Max (David Krumholtz, who'll be in town with Parrish to support the film) and Grace (Lyonne) are two suicidal mental patients who fall in love, get married, escape
from the institute and go off on a journey of self-discovery. Ugh. Max and Grace
has its moments (I liked the dream/fantasy sequences), but fails to catch fire.

That said, I don't mean to suggest that Harold and Maude was a "perfect" film or the template by which all off-beat romantic comedies should be judged (that would be The Graduate!). The concept, after all, is pretty preposterous—in theory, at any rate.

But in the hands of the right actors, like Ruth Gordon and Bud Cort, and, most importantly, the right director, like the great Hal Ashby (Shampoo, Coming Home,
and Being There), Harold and Maude managed to be as bizarre as all get-out and genuinely touching at the same time. David O. Russell and Wes Anderson have come close to capturing some of its unique alchemy in their early films, like Spanking the Monkey (1994) and Rushmore (1998), but most others have failed—spectacularly.

My advice to other young filmmakers out there with visions of a post-millenial Harold and Maude in their heads: There was only one Ashby and, alas, he is dead.

Postscript: My Suicidal Sweetheart is not currently available on DVD, but Krumholtz can be seen every Friday night on Numb3rs, where he has become a brainy sex symbol. He is also committed to appear in the sequel to Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle.