Posted on by Mark

Doctor Feelgood and the Asparagus Kid

One month ago, a good friend of mine released a feature-length movie on YouTube. I had followed along as they released the various trailers, then discovered the half-truths in their lovely making-of documentary.1 I managed to watch it the morning after the film’s premiere, on December 19, and have not gotten it out of my head since. I’ve started and stopped multiple reviews, taken copious notes on a second watch, and am finally releasing what I consider the movie’s canonical review.

If you frequent this part of the internet, you may be just the right person to watch Doctor Feelgood and the Asparagus Kid or: The Respect for the Omnipresence of Death. If the title intrigues you, give it a shot. Then come back here (regardless of whether you completed it) and enjoy a shameless, spoiler-filled plug and review for this movie co-written by my friend Timothy.2

Introduction

Mimicking one of my new favorite podcasts, Carpool Critics, let’s have a concise take to begin.

Doctor Feelgood and the Asparagus Kid is an ambitious project for a group of talented friends emerging from a liberal arts institution. It capitalizes on skills grown during smaller projects such as The Griddlers, while creating something braver and bolder. I give high praise for the minimalist production and commitment to detail, which provide even more enjoyment on additional watches. Though the style wanders at times, it serves the chaotic narrative, mirroring the surreal plot. And, of course, I will never feel the same about asparagus. 9/10 3

An Aside

Before we get going, I’ll be straight: the wide range of emotional storytelling throughout this film, the juxtaposition of serious and sitcom moments, makes it hard for me to pick how to write. It’s a movie by a friend who I know will appreciate (i) a review that reads as straight-faced as (most of) the movie, but with a hidden layer of sarcasm, and (ii) a review that treats this as a legitimate film because, by God, it’s an incredibly difficult undertaking even if every other scene is tongue-in-cheek.

So, as the movie darts from sitcom romance to dark drama, my writing will roam as well. I’ll plant jokes and poke fun at certain scenes, while attempting to express my admiration for this endeavor and the beautiful moments that came as a result.

Reader, if you’re unfamiliar with my friend Timothy, watch the movie and read this review knowing that you’re experiencing the work of someone who makes a difference in the media landscape; while his influence has been localized, I hope to see it extended because Timothy and his friends4 have uproarious ability with humor while maintaining a thoughtful, compelling story.

With that, let’s begin in earnest.

The Review

Despite knowing Timothy for many years, and even participating in some of his wild projects, I was not prepared for the effect this movie would have on me. Until this point, all of his projects fell somewhere on the spectrum from satirical to wacky.

No more.

Doctor Feelgood has a distinct change in both style and scope. It represents vertical movement away from this axis of comedy, into a world of storytelling that has intrinsic meaning, rather than being the vehicle for a comedic bit. There is greater attention to detail by necessity: a musical seen only once must be in your face, whereas a crafted film should have something to bring you back. It is the most impressive piece of entertainment created by someone I know.

This showed me what Timothy and his companions are capable of. It shows off their technical ability, and hints at an emotional sincerity I hadn’t seen expressed before. It leaves me wanting more from both Timothy and Doctor Feelgood itself. I can’t help thinking that the movie is less than the sum of its parts. Nearly every scene is fantastic, executed with a surprisingly clear vision, yet there was a tonal mismatch among them that led to dissonance when I finished it the first time.

After watching the movie a second time, I found the core of those feelings: This is a movie split in two, in two ways.

The first split is found when considering time. Nearly to the minute, the first half of the movie takes place exclusively in some undefined northeastern part of Iowa. Timothy is off at REDACTED college, meeting people, exploring a world that clearly has some disconnect with reality, the nature of which is hidden. There are hints, but it’s kept mostly subtle with no large reveals. At the halfway point, Greg reveals the entire plot of the movie to Timothy. The fourth wall is broken for a moment, and with it shatters all pretense that this is something akin to a normal movie. We suddenly have scenes in hospitals, with Russian mob bosses, a musical sing-along with lyrics, and a desperate love story with what could be considered a secondary character. We get 45 minutes of a simple plot with mild nudges and winks at something larger, followed by 45 minutes of turmoil.

The second split is one of style. After my first viewing, all I could focus on was how it never felt like a choice was made for the tone of this movie. Was it a comedy with a dramatic plot? Was it a drama with a lot of gags for people who don’t like drama? I was convinced this movie could have been something serious, something transcendent, yet it kept undercutting itself. I already knew Timothy and his friends were funny, and this movie definitely puts that on full display, yet they didn’t commit to the comedy either. In some ways, I felt the comedy was similarly undercut by serious drama.

While I still would love to see two versions of this movie, one fully comedic and one fully dramatic, this split style sits with me much better after another time through. I’m increasingly convinced they did commit to a style, except it happened to be anarchic. They gave a Monty Python-esque5 delivery of a story by dressing it up in absurd clothes, yet when those clothes were shed they revealed a dark and heavy backbone for modern sensibilities.

But I don’t want to focus on the story very much. I won’t analyze the plot or explore character growth, because (i) this is my blog and I’m not in the mood for such analysis, and (ii) that’s not the most important part of this movie.

If you watch this movie and you have a particular sense of humor, your mind will certainly absorb the story. You will take time to explore the layers of reality presented to you, and wonder what superhero shirt Timothy was wearing when he was flying at the end.6

Then, the details will bring you back. Watching Doctor Feelgood a second time gave me the same joy I had watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail again when I was older. There were so many more jokes I picked up on, and tiny additions that make the entire experience more delightful. If you watch this movie, do so with an eye and an ear for everything you imagine a group of four college roommates with a flair for the funny would fit in a film made with surprisingly cinematographic skill.

Sound

I love the music in the Lord of the Rings movies. Yet, soon after watching them again this winter (in fact right around the time I watched Doctor Feelgood) I realized how little I specifically noticed the music. It blended into the landscape of the world, establishing tone and guiding me on an emotional journey, never becoming the main attraction. Much to my surprise, the music in Doctor Feelgood achieved the same effect. And, just like other movies, I only realized this when I could afford to pay attention to the soundscape during my second watch.

Immediately, the boot-fall of Linda/Tarbox and the backing vocals set the opening scene. The gravitas of the music could even let you ignore the plastic baseball bat (or, depending on your mood, add to the humor of a comically, maybe purposely, small props budget.) Noticing this, I was hooked and began taking notes.

The main opening music when the movie begins in earnest (what I imagine as “The Sitcom Theme”) has its goofy vibe with a catchy riff and foreign7 lyrics, yet still manages to ride beneath the visual storytelling. It encourages you to focus on the screen, as the sections of the song align to scene cuts or major action. Similar coordination happens throughout the movie, with a personal favorite being Horace and Sue clinking their wine glasses right as a particularly sparkling note of Claire de Lune is played.

Though these songs are matched so cleverly with visuals, there are fewer of them than I would have guessed. There are technically 22 tracks over on their bandcamp, but some get reused in key scenes. For example, I’m Maude gets used on at least three occasions: twice for Maude slow-mo face cam, and once when she and D’Jango are caught in the closet.

Overall, the music is an absolute masterpiece. Despite a little misleading attribution, all but Claire de Lune are original pieces to my knowledge.8

Each piece blends so beautifully with the landscape of its scene, contributing to the experience of the movie. Ignoring the opening scene in the parking lot, the first fifteen minutes or so lull you into feeling like you’re watching an odd TV show. Scene transitions are accompanied by sitcom musical stings (“Full House”), and although we know there’s something eerie from the moment Timothy meets Greg, we’re allowed to live in ignorance a while longer.

If you look at the soundtrack, the music gets darker towards the end. We get heavy electronic bass music, deep wave synthesizers, all combined with an audio environment of booming clocks or distant voices to provide a sense of unease as the threads unravel. This transition to severity is masterful, and the tonality of “dream” music versus “reality” music is clear, with the former typically bright and acoustic, the latter deep and digital.

There are more details to explore beyond the music. In particular, three examples of overall sound design come to mind as having been very well thought out.

First is the only sound effect that makes it to the foreground instead of blending in: The whooshing sound when Greg appears with Timothy. It’s in our face and has intention behind it. Excellent.

Second, we have my second favorite scene: Maude and Timothy in the closet of ignorance. While an obvious choice in retrospect, the complete lack of external sound makes it one of the best moments in the movie.

Finally, we have the use of clocks. While broader, I wanted to point our their recurring appearances. These were used throughout the dream sequence of Timothy waking up. An alarm clock goes off, then we get the ticking of the clock fading into a heart monitor. The final alarm clock rings through the end of sequence just a couple more seconds than made me feel comfortable. Immediately afterward, we are in the classroom, leading with the ticking clock that pervades the entire sequence of glances between characters. It builds tension, setting a mood that is in stark contrast to our first dealings in the classroom.

These pieces of sound design made a huge difference in bringing the audience into the real world, then back to the dream. Now that we understand the stakes, everything in the dream world must contain more tension than before and the immediate inclusion of the ticking clock allows for that.

However, there are a couple departures from this tension that bring attention back to musical selection. These larger set pieces are Horace’s story, and the reunion of Maude and Timothy.

Although somewhat cliché, the use of Claire de Lune felt serious, and matched the tone of the acting perfectly. It reminded me that it’s a song which can emote as tremendously sad; I typically associate it with a notion of beauty and somber tranquility, but it was twisted on me as we saw the story of Horace unfold.

Then, whiplash! We move to Maude and Timothy singing From Now On. On my first viewing, I disliked the song. It felt thematically out of place, and not nearly as polished as the others. I think differently now. In the chaos of being in a dream, one where Timothy is trying to wrest some control, why not have a musical number? And I’ve seen enough of Timothy’s musicals to know his style, and it matched perfectly. And since we’ve already had some other visual gags, might as well throw Disney Channel “follow the lyrics” graphics on screen too. It was much more charming the second time around, and paying attention to the lyrics shows the conflict within Timothy in a way that fits the surrealism of the movie.

Admittedly, From Now On is certainly a foreground aspect of the music. But that was its purpose. The care with which all the music was written for its purpose is amazing. It formed and boosted the emotional landscape for each scene, regardless of the style a particular scene was following. The effects were excellent as well, leaving my only small criticism of sound to this: Sometimes when a character yelled, their audio would be close to clipping. Yet, with only a single camera with a single microphone, I’m still impressed by the consistency.

While the sound gives me the greatest pleasure from the second viewing, the visual details, whether for whimsy or story, were impressive too.

Sight

I’ll let the whimsy slide a bit farther down. There are gaggles of gags, so let’s get the serious part out of the way so we can finish with some fun.

The visual elements that most struck me were the lighting and camera placement. If you watch the documentary about the movie, you’ll see Andrew’s claim that each scene was carefully mapped out prior to filming. Despite other dubious statements, this one was believable.9

Light is an important factor in shaping a scene. Broadly throughout the movie, we move from the bright, naturally lit world of the dream to a noticeably paler, darker “real” world staged in the hospital. Colors become muted, there is certainly no sparkle in anyone’s eyes, and all lighting is soft and artificial. I think the most effective transition happens immediately after our introduction to the world in the hospital, where we suddenly cut back to a bright yellow bowl. The peanut butter cup scene (in addition to being ridiculous) is bright and cheery. It almost feels like a particularly wild commercial that Reese’s would actually run.

There were also a few scenes where camera placement was key to getting a certain lighting setup. Pointing the camera directly at the window in the dorm room could wash out the background a little while also giving foreground characters a shadowy look; this emphasizes tension between Timothy and D’Jango. Careful placement could also make a closet dark despite the door needing to be open, or make a classroom confrontation just a little more grim.

Even more frequently, the camera placement alone was sufficient to frame a beautiful scene and establish a tone. The first half of the movie has good close-up shots of characters talking, and slight camera movement to follow a conversation. The classroom is seen from consistent angles, which connects it in our minds across the movie. These are processed as standard techniques, and makes the viewer comfortable and familiar with the style. Compare this to the second half, where we get the dramatic upside-down of Linda walking to the mob boss down the street, a chaotic fight scene, and many different angles in the hospital room. It causes the audience to feel more discomfort, or at least novelty, warning us that things have changed.

I have but one critique. When characters are walking, it could get just a little shaky. This can work, such as when Timothy and Maude are running down a hill. Other times, like walking on a flat sidewalk, I wished they had obtained a gimbal or similar tool to steady things out.

Yet, this is all forgiven based on the strength of a single scene. I texted Timothy about it immediately after finishing my first view of the movie. It follows the ticking clock scene in the classroom, where Timothy goes to wash his face in the bathroom. It is the most cinematic shot of the entire film. A dark sink, the water rushing, music building the intensity. It was executed to perfection, and successfully communicated the panic that was growing in Timothy.

Of course, I need to give an honorable mention to the entire shooting of Horace’s story. The parallels in shots of the benches, proposals, and walking towards the woods are all delectable. The fights between Horace and Linda are powerful. A small easter egg is Linda reading the same Shel Silverstein book that D’Jango reads in the dorm room when we first meet him.10 Then, the final shot with Horace drinking with a slow movement inwards. Do yourself a favor and check out the documentary for more details on that shot. It’s impressive.

There is one visual element that can’t be forgiven, except because it is the toughest to correct: the faces of the actors. These small errors are either slight breaking of character in SNL fashion with just a twinge of a smile, or it’s their eyes briefly darting straight at the camera lens. (One character in particular did this rather often.)

I’ll focus on the breaking, because I think there is a reasonable explanation for some cases.

It seemed that Greg was always on the verge of breaking. He had this small, wry smile that seemed permanently placed so you couldn’t accuse him of losing face. Yet, it’s believable because he’s one of (probably) two characters who know they are in a dream. He’s actually playing a character, and if you’re a demon-for-hire then being best friends with an unaware college kid would get you cracking a smile too.

Timothy often overacts or has somewhat unbelievable ways of emoting. I’m sure some of these were totally purposeful, because I’m aware of his acting chops.

Others fell victim to this as well. Notably, Tarbox has small shimmers of a smile somewhat frequently. Of course, these happen most often during a gag11 so it makes sense from a production standpoint, and could be viewed as some subconscious version of Linda having a hard time playing a character in this dreamscape.

So with these small cracks among friends acting, it’s easy to see that some scenes were simply the best take available out of many, and happened to be the one where they broke the least instead of not breaking at all.

Despite these flubs, I was incredibly happy with how the actors handled themselves in their real world characters. After seeing Tarbox come close to breaking, Linda handled herself with aplomb in front of Dr. Feelgood. I think Linda was the best-acted character overall. Perhaps I appreciated the severity you saw in Tarbox mixed with actual emotional baggage attached, and without the ridiculous actions. Pay attention to her first scene in the hospital when she sits down on the bed. I expected to see a smile, but she played it straight. It was fantastic.

Since dialogue was the cause of such small errors, the finest element the actors provided was their visual storytelling. As I’ve mentioned, the scenes I found most impressive were the short silent films scattered throughout with a backing musical track. The actors felt natural in these scenes, had clear and believable body language in their respective situations, and maintained pacing if multiple people were involved. It is very easy to try and do too much in these scenarios, but each time they did precisely what they needed. They tied in with all other aspects of the filmography, as if they really had been there.

The Story

I need a short word on my favorite part of the story. On my second watch, I realized the genius stroke of having a couple focused views on D’Jango in the first half of the movie, and one for Horace in the second half (and actually, D’Jango in the second half as well.) It certainly helps throw us off the trail of it being a dream, because why would you focus on a character whose dream it isn’t? But that is a small part of why I think these inclusions are so good.

Focusing on this secondary character gave me space to feel the emotions I wanted to experience. D’Jango has no speaking roles, no other-worldly conflict he is embroiled in. Dream or not, he is an outcast looking for love, trying to make friends with a roommate who doesn’t respect him, and I think it is a touching addition. Once a strange world is established and we accept his horsiness, the display of humanity makes him the most reasonable character in the dream. It also provides a basis for us to believe in Horace and sympathize with him, despite how messed up his relationships were with Linda and Sue. While he grows completely parallel to Timothy, both the audience and Timothy reap the benefits of this growth. It was a very clever addition to the story.

The Gags

You can consider this a compendium of many gags I liked enough to make a note of, or at least the ones that weren’t so subtle that I didn’t notice them at all. I love Timothy’s sense of humor, and it is drizzled all over this movie. My notes were a little disordered, so expect the gags below to be as well.

  • The opening credits list the actual characters, rather than the actors. It’s also “inspired by a novella”. Beautiful.
  • A bit on the nose, but showering with clothes on is always good for a laugh.
  • The blurring of the college name. (Check out the documentary.) I found it blurred in even more scenes the second time, such as Leni’s shirt as he leaves the hospital room.
  • During Maude and Timothy’s first date, they are randomly in snow. (Again, documentary.)
  • Tarbox and her fruit. I think the funniest modern day humor is eating fruit in a way you shouldn’t. Main Example
  • I wrote it down as a gag, but it’s also a good piece of visual storytelling. The two alarm clocks that go off during the nightmare sequence are different.
  • Verbal jokes, such as “Come on, Eileen” followed closely by “Dexys Midnight Runners”, makes you question how much a set of jokes can drive script decisions.
  • The lyrical sing-along in From Now On really got me the second time.
  • Horace is a horse.
  • The “whip” sound when Beni points at the camera.
  • I assume there’s a Wilhelm scream somewhere in the battle scene.
  • The closet of ignorance scene in its entirety.
  • Choosing an outfit (thought it could have been tighter) was a fun reprieve, particularly juxtaposed against the first scene with Greg and Tarbox.
  • The fact that college prom is tomorrow.
  • The frisbee (which sadly went uncredited I think).
  • The fact that college prom exists.
  • So many Episode III quotes from Mustafar when Greg and Timothy talk before the fight scene.
  • Someone finally referencing at least one of those shirts that Timothy has worn for years.

Closing

While I love to laud the technical achievements of an independent, amateur film written by a friend, and there were many, this movie succeeded because it made me feel something. I laughed when they wanted me to, and felt tense, confused, and sympathetic as well. Each story beat fell into place even when I didn’t believe it could. While the individual scenes are perhaps better than the film as a whole, part of me doesn’t care. If I treat each scene as an episode of a TV show, it clicks. I find a single episode of Friends better than the arc of a season; the season’s plot is typically a vehicle for creating good episodes. Doctor Feelgood accomplishes the same thing.

I don’t mean to disregard the story they were trying to tell. It’s a fun, wild journey with a great cast of characters. It’s surreal, and has the legs to make you think. But the heart of this movie is in the details, the time and care spent to get it just the way they wanted using the available resources. Whether this is the last hurrah for this group, or the start of something bigger, I’m glad it’s in the world and I will continue to share it far and wide for those who love the absurd and dramatic.

FOOTNOTES

  1. Please do watch the documentary if you dive into this media landscape. It provides a lot of context for the choices they made, and contradicts a few of my opinions in this review. The documentary is nearly as funny as the movie itself. ↩
  2. It also happens to guest-star other friends, including renowned co-host of Comical Start, Grant. ↩
  3. It could’ve been higher, but I wasn’t even asked to participate. San Diego to Decorah is just a hop, skip, and a jump. ↩
  4. I’ve been lucky enough to meet Andrew on a few occasions, both when staying at Luther for a long weekend in college and during a couple of Timothy’s musicals. He’s also enormously talented. ↩
  5. More parts of it actually remind me of William Goldman and The Princess Bride, but you probably get the picture. ↩
  6. While I didn’t give it much thought until now, it basically has to be Timothy since all other characters are accounted for in the parking lot (or a cardboard box in the hospital.) ↩
  7. To my untrained ears, let’s say it’s vaguely French. ↩
  8. If Timothy reads this, he may find joy in the fact that I actually searched for “Alphonso and the Nasty”. I have a memory of this being a recurring phrase in many of his musical scores, which I only realized after. ↩
  9. While I’m tempted to say the proof was a video of the notebook containing said notes on filming, they also created a page of Timothy writing Maude’s name out of a bunch of other Maude scribbles for 3 seconds of screen time. They’re tough guys to pin down. ↩
  10. I’m still not sure where “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” comes from for D’Jango later, but it’s probably both a book they had on hand, and some reference to it being a nightmare. Also, it’s a fun easter egg in the documentary. ↩
  11. See the gags section for more. ↩

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