Here at last is a film that doesn't show the constant strain of "keeping things moving." Its director and screenwriter (the Zellner Brothers) had the courage to let some scenes play out in real time. So we get a chance to live with the main character, to abide with him.
In one of the most exceptionally courageous scenes of all, we sit with the main character, played by David Zellner, as he and his estranged wife sign their final divorce papers, initialing sheet after sheet of documents. Far from this being boring though, the scene gives viewers a chance to really experience the couple's cold, white canceling of each other.
We get to participate in the little things that make up daily life and that, when highlighted on screen, can be seen as having a sort of comic disproportion all their own. For example, we see Zellner choosing a type font for the posters he's going to hang around the neighborhood, announcing a reward for the return of his lost cat, Goliath.
Oh, what we're all reduced to in the process of solving the many little problems that come our way - the little problems, that because they're ours, loom as big problems. We see Zellner walking down the shoulder of the expressway, operating an electric can opener off a generator he has strapped to his back. Every cat owner will be able to identify with that scene, because we all know that cats immediately learn the sound of whatever apparatus is used to open their cans of food. If a wandering cat is anywhere in the vicinity, it can be relied upon to come running to that sound.
This movie is not all comic chagrin though. It takes a dangerous, harrowing turn. Then we see how frustration can work itself out on a random target. Although even in Zellner's character's extremis of rage, there is a certain black comedy quality to the proceedings.
This movie, like a Monty Python intro, really is "something completely different." It's an independent film that has a genuinely independent spirit. "Goliath" is the cat's meow.