RE:VIEW ~ “Nandor Fodor and the Talking Mongoose” (2023)
Firstly, blame for me knowing about both the source material and the movie presenting it needs to be placed upon the podcast Why Would You Tell Me That? and its hosts the award-winning comedians and broadcasters Neil Delamere and Dave Moore. You should listen to their programme, as they’re completely barmy in all the best ways. Also, their podcast is NUMBER 1. It’s true!
There is so much going on in the premise of Nandor Fodor and the Talking Mongoose. The motion picture itself is straight-forward with a simple, eternal message. But the set-up . . . wow.
It’s the United Kingdom in the 1930s and the British and American parapsychologist, psychoanalyst, author and journalist Nandor Fodor (played by Simon Pegg) receives word about a talking mongoose which inhabits a farmhouse owned by the Irving family on the Isle of Man. The mongoose is named ‘Gef;’ pronounced ‘Geoff’ for no discernible reason.
Before continuing, it’s important to know that all this actually happened. The story was given extensive coverage by the tabloid press in Britain in the early 1930s.
There are tonnes of lore about Gef, all of which was supposedly claimed by the mongoose himself. The Irvings claimed that Gef had communicated to them that he was “an extra extra clever mongoose,” being both an “Earthbound spirit” trapped in the animal which itself was born in New Delhi in 1852, plus was “a ghost in the form of a weasel.” So he seems confused about his biology, at least.
He even once said, “I am a freak. I have hands and I have feet, and if you saw me you’d faint, you’d be petrified, mummified, turned into stone or a pillar of salt!” Given he very rarely, if at all, fully revealed himself to anyone, that’s a claim you have to take his word about.
That’s Gef there, according to the sketching skills of George Scott.
There is no definitive resolution to the question probably running through your mind: is this for real . . . ? What was really going on . . . ‽
The likeliest thing is that the first time Gef appeared was thanks to the daughter Voirrey Irving’s amateur experimentation with ventriloquism. Then the identity was adopted by her father, James, who seems to have lived with an undiagnosed dissociative identity disorder, with Gef residing in its own identity.
If you’re desperate to know more about him / it / them (no idea of their preferred pronouns), then head to this Wikipedia article about the whole thing.
Believe it or not, all of that is merely set-up for the story. You need to know none of that going in, as it’s all provided to you in the film. Seeing it all play out through the experience of Mr Fodor and his assistant Anne (the always great Minnie Driver) is more than entertaining enough, no matter your level of understanding of the whole thing. It’s bit like hearing that Harry Houdini regularly escaped from locked chests underwater: you hear that and think yeah . . ? Can I watch? The surprise isn’t spoiled with the foreknowledge.
The real message of the film is twofold.
What is reality? If I say that something ‘is real to me,’ no one can truly argue with what I believe, except to disagree. Plato would have a field day with that but he’s long dead so who cares?
Secondly, what harm does it do to anyone if I think there are fairies at the bottom of my garden? If you take that ‘reality’ from me, then the garden loses some of its mystique and I am less happy and content owing to the disappointing lack of fairies among by hollyhocks and tulips.
If someone is of the opinion that some fiendish cabal is running the World, injecting people with microchips, whilst the Sky God curses the people of some other religion; and so on, that’s entirely different. Shut that nonsense down right now. Science and fact are primary at that point.
But let’s say that this has nothing to do with my ability to care for myself, my family, and cast a ballot as part of democracy. What have you gained by making me less pleased with my garden? More importantly, shouldn’t you ask yourself AITA for proving the absence of majik horticultural helpers?
Well, frankly, yes, you are the asshole.
Sometimes it’s best to let people believe what they want, as long as they’re happy and not doing any harm to themselves or others.
The world is distinctly lacking in whimsey and fun — especially right now — so it behooves us all to not stop all over someone else’s joy / don’t yuk their yum / however you want to put it.
Very much recommended.
★★★☆☆