—
Buy it on Amazon.
The plot of “Local Hero,” made in long-ago 1983, doesn’t begin to convey its charm. An oil executive in Houston (Peter Riegert) is sent to a small town on the Scottish coast by his eccentric boss (Burt Lancaster) to buy up everything in sight. Then the oil company will build a giant refinery. Riches are soon on everyone’s mind — in Houston and in Scotland.
Bill Forsyth, the director of “Local Hero,” is a Scot, smart and wily. And so subtle he doesn’t even give much away in the preview:
But the plot — Riegert’s efforts to negotiate a deal — really isn’t very important. The characters are. And with characters as appealing as the people in “Local Hero,” a film doesn’t need more. As Bill Forsyth explains:
I saw it along the lines of a Scottish ‘Beverly Hillbillies’ — what would happen to a small community when it suddenly became immensely rich. That was the germ of the idea and the story built itself from there. It seemed to contain a similar theme to ‘Brigadoon’ (1954), which also involved some Americans coming over to Scotland, becoming part of a small community, being changed by the experience and affecting the place in their own way.
So “Local Hero” is, first and foremost, a study in character: direct, straight-ahead American and some Scots whose humor is as dry as a 30-year-old single malt. The joke’s on the American. And it takes him the entire movie to get it. [To buy the DVD from Amazon click here. To stream the movie from Amazon, click here.]
Forsyth again: “I think we’re basically all odd. I think we all have a tension between what we think we are and what other people think we are. Everyone is like that and I just tend to highlight it. I think I could make a detective story, or something conventional like that, and end up having odd characters in it too. Strangeness is in everyone, it’s just a matter of whether you choose to reveal it or not.”
In “Local Hero,” all is revealed — in good time. Along the way, we are treated to a tour of the splendid town of Pennan, a village on the northern coast of Scotland. [Great trivial fact: The beach you see is not in Pennan. It’s 147 miles away.] And, along the way, we are treated to one of the greatest soundtracks in the history of film — by Mark Knopfler (once of Dire Straits). It too is subtle: You don’t hear the whole theme until the very end of the movie.
Something to think about: the red phone booth. At the end, we see/hear it ringing. If your eyes aren’t so teary at the end of the first nearly-perfect film you’ve seen in donkey’s years that you don’t care, ask yourself: Who’s calling? What’s going to happen next? And isn’t this the happiest ending you’ve seen in a long time?
—
This article originally appeared on The Head Butler
Photo: Pexels