It sure sounds crazy: actor Antonio Banderas directing wife Melanie Griffith in a summer of '65 comedy-drama that's as much about the civil rights movement as the escape of a frustrated mother from a bad husband and dead-end life.
But based on Mark Childress' 1993 novel, with the author writing the screenplay, "Crazy in Alabama" is a genuinely fine, albeit lost-in-time, movie.A little less graphic than the novel, "Crazy" commences after the off-screen killing of Chester, abusive husband of Lucille (Griffith). With her seven children -- and Chester's head in a Tupperware container -- smiling, dizzy Lucille comes running to her mother and older brother Dove (David Morse), a funeral-home operator who brings his parentless nephews Peejoe (Lucas Black) and Wiley (David Speck) to live with him in the ensuing crisis.
Lucille hits the road on her own, heading for fame and fortune, taking her husband's head, and leaving the kids behind. In parallel stories, the movie shifts between her escapades and the two teenage boys in company with Dove, who become central characters after they see racial tensions turn deadly in their decidedly Southern town.
There, the redneck sheriff (Meat Loaf) is a little too rough breaking up a peaceful protest by black kids wanting to use the "whites-only" public swimming pool. Peejoe is by far the most tolerant of the locals in regards to equality for blacks and refuses to keep quiet when a young protester is accidentally killed and nobody raises a fuss.
While the sheriff is zealous about catching Lucille for the murder of Chester, he's also slowly backed into a corner and lashes out at Peejoe. Dove's trashy wife (Cathy Moriarty) voices the casual and pervasive racist attitudes of the times that only make Peejoe more determined.
Dove is no crusader for truth and justice, but it's part of the film's delicate balancing act that we're never encouraged to make superficial judgments about characters. When Lucille is arrested and brought to trial, Peejoe is a prime witness, and many wrongs are righted with the help of an eccentric judge (the show-stopping Rod Steiger).
Ranging from serious drama to nostalgic comedy to courtroom farce, "Crazy" is a winning entertainment largely because of first-time director Banderas' lively, perceptive and often moody approach to the material. The performances are also a big help -- with Griffith going to town in one of her best roles in years and the extremely likable Black proving that "Sling Blade" was no fluke.