KBT Presents: C.R.A.Z.Y.

From Patsy Cline to David Bowie from the Sixties to the Eighties, C.R.A.Z.Y. follows the Beaulieu family in suburban Quebec across two and a half decades. Told from the point of view of Zac, who is the fourth of five boys, whose mother babies him a perhaps a bit too much for her fathers tastes. She believes that he has been touched by Christ and has the power to take the pain away from her families physical bumps and scratches by Zac merely thinking about the injured person. Zac really wants to play mother to the new baby, avoid being beat up by his older siblings (the rebel, the jock, the nerd) and browse through his construction worker father's extensive record collection. He has been bitten by the bug of rock 'n roll and fantasizes the church choir belting out The Rolling Stones Sympathy for the Devil. As the years pass, and the boys begin to grow up, clashes with the parents are offset by the magnetic pull of of the family unit. The film is brilliant scored with rock tunes across the era and has a lively and engrossing visual wit that never falls into the too far into trap of oversimplifying the characters, particular the dad who, looking a bit like 1990s era Kevin Spacey is macho and has ideas of what his sons should or shouldn't be, yet croons Patsy Cline tunes with the best of them. His clashes with Zac embody many human frailties and complexities of family friction over the years. The film effortless juggles a large collection of characters and situations with an energetic style and wit not often seen in Canadian cinema (well, the English side of things, anyway).

C.R.A.Z.Y. won just about every major Canadian film award in 2005, yet remains ridiculously underseen (particularly south of the border, it's probably the French subtitles). These types of universally accessible entertainments should be giving Canadian movies a higher profile than they typically have.