Sigh.
We just don’t laugh enough anymore.
I’m just as guilty as the next bloke for failing to insert a bit of humor into the game of life. Though I do try as often as possible to both look for and promote a silver lining in all that do, I’ll still concur that – if laughter truly is the best medicine – I just don’t chuckle enough. Of course, some of this is owed to the fact that, collectively, audiences have kinda/sorta turned away from Comedy, what with comedians being held to ridiculously high standards these days wherein a simple joke might offend someone’s delicate sensibilities. Still, I’ve learned to never miss the opportunity to increase my own endorphins, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed in hopes that laughter will somehow make a much-deserved comeback.
For better or worse, Swede Caroline (2024) makes about as good an attempt as I’ve seen to resurrect Comedy from its near comatose state. Screenwriter Brook Driver – who co-directs with Finn Bruce – have taken a page out of what works exceedingly well with the mockumentary format and delivered a charming character laugher exposing the nefarious skullduggery lurking in the world of the competitive giant-growing vegetable community. While what emerges may not quite be the joke-a-minute treatise that could pull mankind from its perpetual slumber, the flick should still draw attention from those of us who might this kind of schtick as funny as it is charming. I’ve always found these looks at ‘lovable nitwits’ wholesome in their own way, and Caroline takes root in good company.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kid of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In this British Mockumentary, the competitive giant vegetable growing world is rocked by scandal when up-and-coming prospect Caroline has her prized marrow plants stolen.”
We just don’t laugh enough anymore.
I’m just as guilty as the next bloke for failing to insert a bit of humor into the game of life. Though I do try as often as possible to both look for and promote a silver lining in all that do, I’ll still concur that – if laughter truly is the best medicine – I just don’t chuckle enough. Of course, some of this is owed to the fact that, collectively, audiences have kinda/sorta turned away from Comedy, what with comedians being held to ridiculously high standards these days wherein a simple joke might offend someone’s delicate sensibilities. Still, I’ve learned to never miss the opportunity to increase my own endorphins, and I’ll keep my fingers crossed in hopes that laughter will somehow make a much-deserved comeback.
For better or worse, Swede Caroline (2024) makes about as good an attempt as I’ve seen to resurrect Comedy from its near comatose state. Screenwriter Brook Driver – who co-directs with Finn Bruce – have taken a page out of what works exceedingly well with the mockumentary format and delivered a charming character laugher exposing the nefarious skullduggery lurking in the world of the competitive giant-growing vegetable community. While what emerges may not quite be the joke-a-minute treatise that could pull mankind from its perpetual slumber, the flick should still draw attention from those of us who might this kind of schtick as funny as it is charming. I’ve always found these looks at ‘lovable nitwits’ wholesome in their own way, and Caroline takes root in good company.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kid of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In this British Mockumentary, the competitive giant vegetable growing world is rocked by scandal when up-and-coming prospect Caroline has her prized marrow plants stolen.”
Back in 1996, I was one of the few (and the proud) to discover in cinema the universe of Christopher Guest’s wonderful Waiting For Guffman. This exposé into the politics and personal lives of a community theater group staging an original musical production celebrating the town’s anniversary truly became a sensation once it dawned on home video, being the kind of flick buoyed by some incredible word-of-mouth. Indeed, it was popular enough for Guest and his band of merrymakers to do it again not once, not twice, but thrice – Best In Show (2000), A Mighty Wind (2003), and For Your Consideration (2006) – to what was arguably even greater effect.
Each of these enterprises uniquely pulled back the curtain on very specific communities – dog pageants, folk music, and Hollywood awards shows, respectively – but what unites them is that each kinda/sorta revolves around characters who are let’s say just outside of normal. They aren’t sick. They aren’t depraved. But they are somewhat blissfully unaware of how they might look to others on the outside looking in. Their quirks are captured not viciously or mockingly but in an almost celebratory way, and even some among us might conclude that these strange yet relatable folks are somehow living their best lives blissfully unaware of how simple-minded they might be seen by others.
Well, the dirty little secret is that, yes, these amiable men and women are living their best lives; and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that!
The off-the-beaten-path village of Shepton Mallet might be entirely unheard-of outside Glastonbury, and yet it has its own reason to celebrate. Annually, the quaint little spot hosts a competitive vegetable growing fair wherein the biggest leeks, gourds, and whatnot get their growers crowned to the delight of millions … well … thousands … well … hundreds … well … dozens. Dozens, at best. To the delight of dozens of onlookers from the local community.
In a rather dark twist of fate, Caroline (played by Jo Hartley) is shocked when her prized marrow gets disqualified for a thin fissure – which apparently only a single judge can see – and is summarily disgraced. Such public embarrassment catches the eye of Kirsty (Rebekah Murrell), a budding documentarian, who decides that she and her film crew are going to spend the next year documenting both the aftermath of Caroline’s fall from grace as well as her attempts to return to next year’s competition with a winning specimen. Granted, a year is a long time, but directors Driver and Bruce shouldn’t be faulted for plotting out an ambitious course of action for their lovable knuckleheads to abide.
Yet, herein lies part of Swede Caroline’s problem …
Each of these enterprises uniquely pulled back the curtain on very specific communities – dog pageants, folk music, and Hollywood awards shows, respectively – but what unites them is that each kinda/sorta revolves around characters who are let’s say just outside of normal. They aren’t sick. They aren’t depraved. But they are somewhat blissfully unaware of how they might look to others on the outside looking in. Their quirks are captured not viciously or mockingly but in an almost celebratory way, and even some among us might conclude that these strange yet relatable folks are somehow living their best lives blissfully unaware of how simple-minded they might be seen by others.
Well, the dirty little secret is that, yes, these amiable men and women are living their best lives; and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that!
The off-the-beaten-path village of Shepton Mallet might be entirely unheard-of outside Glastonbury, and yet it has its own reason to celebrate. Annually, the quaint little spot hosts a competitive vegetable growing fair wherein the biggest leeks, gourds, and whatnot get their growers crowned to the delight of millions … well … thousands … well … hundreds … well … dozens. Dozens, at best. To the delight of dozens of onlookers from the local community.
In a rather dark twist of fate, Caroline (played by Jo Hartley) is shocked when her prized marrow gets disqualified for a thin fissure – which apparently only a single judge can see – and is summarily disgraced. Such public embarrassment catches the eye of Kirsty (Rebekah Murrell), a budding documentarian, who decides that she and her film crew are going to spend the next year documenting both the aftermath of Caroline’s fall from grace as well as her attempts to return to next year’s competition with a winning specimen. Granted, a year is a long time, but directors Driver and Bruce shouldn’t be faulted for plotting out an ambitious course of action for their lovable knuckleheads to abide.
Yet, herein lies part of Swede Caroline’s problem …
Given that there really isn’t a great deal of watchability surrounding watching a vegetable grow, the script has to invest far more time in its various characters, requiring a subplot or two or three that presents them with suitable opportunities to both define who they are and keep the audience’s interest. When they stick near and dear to the business with the farming – Caroline’s set-up, her techniques, her support system and best friends Willy (Celyn Jones) and Paul (Richard Lumsden), etc. – the picture works quite well. Once our leading lady prized new crop gets absconded by what looks to be competitors who won’t stand for a lady squeezing her way onto the podium at the Shepton Mallet, the story truly hits its stride, giving each of its comic players a chance to show why they’re uniquely necessary for this journey as well as what they mean to one another. It’s a wonderfully funny ride.
However, a year is a rather long, long, long time. As such, there are other plotlines threaded into the trip which, sadly, just don’t work as well. For example, Caroline’s side hustle – a girl’s gotta eat and have a job – involves her doing some cash-under-the-table research for a town’s resident private investigators (who also sponsor the community’s sex parties). Even though their participation eventually ties into the main premise, there’s an awful lot of material that feels more like a slog while we’re waiting for the payoff to what appears like a few throwaway jokes. Furthermore, there’s a bit of a dark turn to the Comedy when Caroline’s ex-husband essentially shows up for no other reason than to pass away from testicular cancer, a curiously somber bit that never quite feels organic. Though it does offer Caroline a chance to show her humanity, hadn’t she already shown enough for us to see she was at heart a good and decent person?
Also, this extra narrative padding never quite meshes strongly enough with Caroline’s central task – both growing and winning the big prize – and, thus, gives the picture a bit of bloat. Because Driver and Bruce turns their mockumentary into much more of a traditional comic caper in the second half, the feature as a whole loses that specialness that makes these faux documentaries unique. All of a sudden, the picture involves more camera angles, more supporting extras, and more dimensions, only to see it dialed back to norm again for the closing sequences. The mock stuff winds up being little more than bookends to a vastly more normal picture in the middle; and that makes this particular harvest a bit underwhelming.
However, a year is a rather long, long, long time. As such, there are other plotlines threaded into the trip which, sadly, just don’t work as well. For example, Caroline’s side hustle – a girl’s gotta eat and have a job – involves her doing some cash-under-the-table research for a town’s resident private investigators (who also sponsor the community’s sex parties). Even though their participation eventually ties into the main premise, there’s an awful lot of material that feels more like a slog while we’re waiting for the payoff to what appears like a few throwaway jokes. Furthermore, there’s a bit of a dark turn to the Comedy when Caroline’s ex-husband essentially shows up for no other reason than to pass away from testicular cancer, a curiously somber bit that never quite feels organic. Though it does offer Caroline a chance to show her humanity, hadn’t she already shown enough for us to see she was at heart a good and decent person?
Also, this extra narrative padding never quite meshes strongly enough with Caroline’s central task – both growing and winning the big prize – and, thus, gives the picture a bit of bloat. Because Driver and Bruce turns their mockumentary into much more of a traditional comic caper in the second half, the feature as a whole loses that specialness that makes these faux documentaries unique. All of a sudden, the picture involves more camera angles, more supporting extras, and more dimensions, only to see it dialed back to norm again for the closing sequences. The mock stuff winds up being little more than bookends to a vastly more normal picture in the middle; and that makes this particular harvest a bit underwhelming.
None of this is to say that audiences will be disappointed with all of Swede Caroline. It loses one of its best bits – Willy simply can’t stop staring as if transfixed directly into the camera lens in those fantastic early sequences – but it still manages to hold back a few important surprises as its many subplots unfurl. When it adheres to that tried-and-true formula perfected by Guest and others, it is pretty damn good. Having too much ground too cover is a detriment to farming as well as it is to storytelling, and a little bit of gardening could’ve given this one the ability to bear fruit … erm … vegetables, that is … for seasons to come.
Swede Caroline (2024) was produced by Belstone Pictures, Deadbeat Films, and Picnik Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive and Allien Vaughn. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: while this uses the documentary format effectively throughout most of the picture, there comes a point wherein it resembles far more a traditional flick than a true doc. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas … sad to report that there’s not a single one.
Recommended.
More cute than clever, Swede Caroline (2024) sprouts from the same fertile ground as produced the famed Christopher Guest mockumentaries, but – somewhere along the way – it morphed into a far more conventional mystery. Frankly, the script feels so uneven in the way it handled both parts – the faux doc and the kidnapping plot – I have to wonder if it might’ve been better as a conventional story instead of mashing two styles together. Yes, that might be a minor quibble as all involved certainly appear ready, willing, and able to deliver the laughs required of a respectable character comedy; but it lacks the rewatchability potential that makes the Guest efforts so endearing.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Swede Caroline (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Swede Caroline (2024) was produced by Belstone Pictures, Deadbeat Films, and Picnik Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive and Allien Vaughn. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: while this uses the documentary format effectively throughout most of the picture, there comes a point wherein it resembles far more a traditional flick than a true doc. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas … sad to report that there’s not a single one.
Recommended.
More cute than clever, Swede Caroline (2024) sprouts from the same fertile ground as produced the famed Christopher Guest mockumentaries, but – somewhere along the way – it morphed into a far more conventional mystery. Frankly, the script feels so uneven in the way it handled both parts – the faux doc and the kidnapping plot – I have to wonder if it might’ve been better as a conventional story instead of mashing two styles together. Yes, that might be a minor quibble as all involved certainly appear ready, willing, and able to deliver the laughs required of a respectable character comedy; but it lacks the rewatchability potential that makes the Guest efforts so endearing.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Swede Caroline (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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