It is not too much of a leap making the assumption FUNNY COW (director Adrian Shergold, 102 minutes) is based loosely on the rise to fame of 70s singer and comedienne Marti Caine. That said the film is far from comic, often unrelentingly bleak as it depicts the northern back street to big house journey of the lead character, the story told in an episodic, out of chronology manner that serves this admirable, sometimes disconcerting film to generally good effect.
The ‘funny cow’ in the piece, she is never referred to as anything else – either in jest or disparagement – is played (except in childhood) by the brilliant Maxine Peake, whose dynamic, absorbing performance overwhelms every other member of the cast to the extent their roles sometimes seem a touch obvious. In the appalling physical abuse she suffers at the hands, literally, of her father (Stephen Graham) and then husband Bob (Tony Pitts) there are overtones of ‘I, Tanya,’ the similarity in the women extending as far an overwhelming desire to avoid compromise at any cost – even as a child the ‘funny cow’ or calf in this case, is cheeky and unyielding even in the face of bullying or neglect.
Infused with a belief she can make people laugh, emanating from a horrible childhood where humour is used to counteract cruelty, after an early flourish of love, her marriage becomes short on affection and long on aggression, the violent outbursts of her husband prompting her to find solace in a gentle relationship with culture enthusiast and book shop owner Angus (Paddy Considine). At roughly the same time she comes under the reluctant wing of aging and ailing club comic Lenny Lemon (Alun Armstrong), who deals with her initial enquiry on what it takes to be a comedian with the comment, ‘It’s not a job for a woman because women aren’t funny,’ and all that waits in store for her in a world sending him rapidly to the comedy graveyard are audiences that will ‘be on you like a pack of wolves.’
Come the moment when Lemon is too ill to take the stage she inevitably stands in, the club owner (Kevin Eldon) predictably hesitant in allowing her to perform, eventually persuaded by Lemon she is up to the task. After overcoming her initial trepidation she delivers what sounds authentic seventies comedic dialogue in that it is overtly racist and homophobic, indicative of the prevailing trend in humour at the time, immediately making the mild, contrived gags of Lemon sound like a throwback to the war.
From a lifetime of dealing with boorish men she has the verbal ammunition to put hecklers in their place, but as offers come in to further her career so the liaison with Angus, with whom she has been co-habiting, hits the skids, resisting all his efforts to broaden her cultural horizons. Yet in the scenes performed from a position of wealth and success – sports car, expensive clothes, impressive house – achievements as an entertainer have not brought a contented life, her mother (Lindsey Coulson) has lapsed into alcoholism and there is only antipathy or downright hostility from her brother and his family.
Occasionally the sudden switch from one era of her life to another disrupts the flow, but that is a minor gripe when set against the excellence of Peake, well-crafted period detail evident in dingy, working men’s clubs and a sharp, unsentimental script that hardly wastes a word. In fact the entire sweep of the story is neatly contained in a monologue to camera reminiscent of Michael Caine in ‘Alfie’ at a point in her life when experience has long since replaced aspiration. ‘Life has always been too much or not enough,’ she reflects. No bull from a funny cow.
NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of MONTY’S DOUBLE – an acclaimed thriller now available as an Amazon Kindle Book.