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Reefer Madness

The dope-y Saving Grace revives the irreverence of early English comedies

Irish charm and British eccentricity are hot properties on this side of the pond -- especially among U.S. moviegoers. Witness the phenomenal success here of The Secret of Roan Inish, in which a ten-year-old Irish girl finds her lost brother living among seals off her country's rugged western coast, or of The Full Monty, wherein working-class Englishmen tackle unemployment through striptease. American audiences seem more receptive than ever to the quirks and follies of the British Isles, whether in Topsy-Turvy or The Crying Game. This in a time when movie imports from Europe have otherwise slowed to a trickle.

The year's first major transatlantic assault on the Yank funny bone is Saving Grace, a relentless charmer about a plucky, middle-class Cornish widow who staves off impending poverty by cultivating marijuana in her greenhouse. Antidrug crusaders, foreign and domestic, are sure to find the idea singularly unfunny, and that will doubtless please the moviemakers; any English comedy that fails to pop authority squarely on the nose is scarcely worth watching.

The film's heroine, Grace Trefethan (Brenda Blethyn), descends from an illustrious comic line -- the shy bank clerk who dreamed up a gold heist in The Lavender Hill Mob, the Scottish islanders who expropriated a whiskey-laden shipwreck in Tight Little Island, the distant relative who did away with eight wacky heirs (all played by Alec Guinness) to achieve a dukedom in Kind Hearts and Coronets. It has been nearly half a century since the last of Britain's wickedly funny Ealing comedies was released, but with Saving Grace, Blethyn, her co-stars and director Nigel Cole ably revive that brand of gentle anarchism and general irreverence.

A case of the giggles: Brenda Blethyn and Craig Ferguson's laughter is contagious in the British comedy Saving Grace.
Paul Chedlow
A case of the giggles: Brenda Blethyn and Craig Ferguson's laughter is contagious in the British comedy Saving Grace.

What's wrong with giving up orchids and growing a little pot (a lot of pot, actually) to hold off the banker, the repo man and the auctioneer? Likable, slightly batty Grace, whose philandering clod of a husband has left her with a mountain of debts, is, in the words of one neighbor, simply "carrying on the local tradition of complete and utter contempt for the law." So, too, are almost all of her friends and acquaintances in the picturesque fishing village of Port Liac. Grace's young handyman, Matthew (The Drew Carey Show's Craig Ferguson, who also co-wrote the screenplay), the local general practitioner, Dr. Bamford (Martin Clunes), the church vicar (Leslie Phillips), even the old ladies who run the grocery store, have no use at all for puritanism or bureaucracy. They just want to live their lives unbothered. So when Grace, whose skill is gardening, and Matthew, whose skill is charm, construct an elaborate hydroponic farm in her greenhouse complete with grow-lights that illuminate the entire night sky over Port Liac, the villagers not only look the other way, they take a certain delight in the enterprise. As with The Full Monty or the recent Irish farce Waking Ned Devine, there's a heartwarming conspiracy at work here: We're all in this together, don't you know?

Complications arise, of course. Matthew's girlfriend, Nicky (Valerie Edmond), is secretly pregnant, and she worries for his safety. The bumbling constable, Sergeant Alfred (Ken Campbell), is usually in tepid pursuit of imaginary salmon poachers, but even he might trip over Grace's new cash crop. And then there's the tricky matter of getting 20 kilos of dynoweed to market: Innocent Grace hasn't been to big, bad London in five years, and she knows nothing whatsoever about the underworld. Nonetheless, this blithe country woman, wearing the same white suit she doubtless once wore to the Chelsea Flower Show, rushes on into back alley and drug den -- with suitably hilarious results.

Director Cole, a veteran of British TV, and his screenwriters recapture the dark wit of the old Ealing comedies -- their acknowledged inspiration -- with verve. Who could resist Grace's lament that while she has been left a numbered Swiss bank account, there's not a shilling in it? And when the middle-aged heroine insists on sampling the marijuana she has nursed back to health, it's almost as though we were inhaling along with her; certainly her case of the giggles is contagious. Cheech and Chong would love it.

These moviemakers also have a keen eye for the attractive diversion: A public house conversation compares the literary merits of Jackie Collins and Franz Kafka, and an encounter between Grace and her dead husband's London mistress, Honey (Diana Quick), is a little masterpiece. Through it all, Blethyn is sublime. Best-known here for her award-winning performance as the white factory worker who reunited with her black daughter in Mike Leigh's Secrets & Lies, she's an actress of subtlety and comic depth. Given the playful tone of Saving Grace, we never worry that she's about to be dismembered by tough London gangsters, but we do become increasingly concerned about her future: Is she in the reefer trade to stay?

The writers answer that question with a fairy-tale ending that seems a bit ingenuous and a trifle gooey. But because we've had such a good time getting there, we can live with it. In short, just say yes.

 
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