If such a thing may even be said, this may well be the funniest movie ever to be made about childhood schizophrenia. I don't know if I completely buy into other reviewers' interpretations of political subtext. I don't know that the world that eventually gets the best of the Incredible Francie Brady is even a uniquely Irish one- and what is probably the most chilling aspect of this movie is how "normal" life tends to converge with Francie's deepening insanity: the Bay of Pigs (clever story-overlap, huh?), religious mania, science fiction / cold war paranoia. These are the things that lurk in the world that make us look at ourselves and ask, "Just how sane are we, really?"
Eventually, as everything good in his life cuts away from underneath him, Francie (Eamonn Owens, in what might be the best performance by a young actor that I can recall) ricochets back and forth between pathetic and frightening. This film is one of those that is painful to watch, and we are inclined, like Francie, to start to dream of how it would only take one bomb to wipe out all the aliens and communists and Mrs. Nugents.
After we've been gleefully horrified and blasphemously assulted, the only real break from the movies' grim nihilism comes at the very end, where the only word of comfort is that God has a special place in his heart for the likes of Francie Brady.