REVIEW: The Polka King

It's generally accepted that the worst thing a film can be is mediocre; when it lands right in the middle of not being exceptionally good or bad and ends up just being "okay". An unironically great film is the ideal that all (or at least most) filmmakers strive for, whereas a so-bad-it's-good flick can provide hours upon hours (hell, possibly even years) of entertainment. When a film's greatest accolade is that it's competently made, you run into real trouble; fortunately, even the most middling movie can eek by, so long as it has the support of a strong focal point. In the case of The Polka King, a biopic comedy released straight to Netflix, that focal point is Jack Black. Turn up your nose all you wish, I still feel that Jack Black is a supremely under-utilized performer. His casting in Peter Jackson's King Kong struck many as a total shot in the dark, but smaller films like this and Bernie demonstrate what an endearing character actor he can be when allowed to break out of his mold a little. I love Tenacious D as much as the next guy, but it's clear there's potential that Kung Fu Panda just isn't tapping.

The plot follows the real-life story of Pennsylvania Polka King, Jan Lewan (Black), a happy-go-lucky immigrant from Poland looking to make it big in the land of opportunity. To help sustain his struggling polka band, Jan begins accepting investments from his elderly fans, inadvertently creating a Ponzi scheme. The conflict between Jan's guilt and the mental gymnastics he performs in order to stay the course make up the primary conflict of the movie; the film creates an interesting moral dilemma and leaves it up to the viewer to cast judgement for themselves. I can't say whether or not the real-life Jan Lewan was so altrusitic in his intentions, but Black's take on the band leader paints a portrait of an optimist who simply wants to do right by those around him. Like with Bernie, he plays a nice, endearing guy who does something terrible. He does what he does entirely in pursuit of the American dream, a well-meaning immigrant who only seeks to do right by those around him in the land of opportunity. Whether or not you choose to buy this as justification for his actions is left entirely up in the air, and that, I feel, is where the movie's most interesting detail comes into play.

Audience interpretation can play a large part in a number of films (arguably every film), but here it's served up as the main course; how much should intent factor into the way we judge criminals? Is the character of Jan Lewan a genuine dreamer who simply got carried away in following his passions? Or is he little more than a grinning egomaniac, too in love with the sound of his own voice? He cons old couples out of their money, but he does make a genuine effort to return their investment and make things right. We see him using religion to justify his actions, attending confession whenever the guilt starts to get to him. But when retribution finally does come, he welcomes it with open arms and a smile on his face, overjoyed that God is making things right. We see this endearing, friendly man lie, cheat, and steal for what he claims to be only the purest of reasons, but we're still left feeling a trace of doubt and inherent distrust. We see him go about his merry work, using his natural charisma and folksy foreign charm to manipulate those around him, and we're forced to ask ourselves, "do you think the professional showman is just putting on an act?"

While this moral quandry is by far the most interesting takeaway the film has to offer, it also enables the film's greatest flaw, namely in that it doesn't make any kind of statement of its own. There's an inkling of some kind of underlying theme regarding the way we view immigrants (especially those who eagerly attempt to integrate during their pursuit of the American dream), but the whole thing still ends up feeling noncommittal (except for one oddball exchange between two SEC agents that comes off like a blunt soliloquy condemning Libertarianism). Without a strong central theme or message, the plot ends up feeling like a series of events, moving from one scene to another without feeling entirely structured (this becomes more of a problem in the latter half). Not to say that every film needs to present some kind of revolutionary moral (especially one adapted from real-world events), but it certainly would have helped the structure. Thematically-speaking, the viewer is doing most of the work, so it feels a little lacking in terms of artistic intent (even if the story and characters are all interesting people).

For what it is, The Polka King is a fine time. Its main problem is that the level of depth here is dependent entirely on how deep the viewer is willing to dig. It makes up for its lack of structure and themeing with a host of fun performances and a fascinating story that's so strange it simply had to be true. It's easy to say Jack Black carries the entire thing, but he's backed up by a really solid supporting cast (especially Jackie Weaver as Jan's skeptical mother-in-law). It captures the "small-town legend" tone exceedingly well; it's an entertaining little story, and even if that's all it is, I still enjoyed my time with it.