It was a coin toss, really. While I declared it 'the movie of the year' in my original review, Happiness wound up taking second place on my 10-best of 1998 list to Rushmore. Both films failed to find an audience theatrically, though in the case of the latter the blame can be assigned squarely on Buena Vista, who bungled the marketing campaign and print distribution. But at least it was marketed: October Films, an indie outfit at the time owned by Universal, abandoned Happiness after they realized it would earn an NC-17 rating. (Word is that the scenes involving semen made studio execs nervous.) The film was eventually released--unrated--by Good Machine, the production's financier, a company so low on capital that Happiness was all but released on a per screen basis. Ever-growing Trimark, bless their hearts, have saved the cogent sleeper from oblivion by putting it on video and, more remarkably, DVD.

Happiness is neither a traditionally entertaining nor mainstream moviegoing experience. Director Solondz has painted an even grimmer portrait of suburbia than 1997's The Ice Storm, as well as his own Sundance winner, Welcome to the Dollhouse. The film's Altman-esque narrative acquaints us with three New Jersey sisters: Joy Jordan (Adams), a single woman whose passive-aggressive behavior provokes hostility in others; Helen (Lara Flynn Boyle), a famous poet with a private desire to be dominated; and Trish (Stevenson), mother of three and wife of reputable psychiatrist Bill Maplewood (Baker). Trish is constantly boasting about her idyllic home-life, but she secretly yearns for the attention that is bestowed upon her siblings.

Trish is unaware that her shrink husband lusts after young boys--teeny-bop magazines are fodder for his obsessions. His patients (who bore him) are carrying out their own psychosexual fantasies: Allen, Helen's anonymous, depraved, overweight neighbour, spends his days as an affable office crony but at night strips down to his underwear, gets drunk, calls women at random and barks perverse orders at them. With Helen as his fantasy figure, he resists connecting with anyone on a sexually mature level; his verbal abuse of a different neighbour who might have a crush on him, the portly Kristina (Camryn Manheim), is heartbreaking for how much the two have in common, physically and emotionally. Watching the film a second time at home, I found myself even more compelled by this thread; through these two lost souls, Solondz touches upon aspects of loneliness and fantasy that are incontestably true. Unfortunately, to discuss this subplot further is to spoil one of Happiness' funniest and most surprising revelations.

There is one story in Happiness that sits there unconscious: the Jordan girls' retired parents (played by Ben Gazzarra and Louise Lasser) separate, which causes the insecure Trish much consternation. I never could get a fix on Gazzara's character, whose circuitous dialogue and actions earn not laughs but frustration. Ultimately, the heart of Happiness is rooted in one subplot, that of the pedophilic Dr. Maplewood. He touches base with our sympathies until the very end, even as we're sickened by his behavior; Baker's portrayal is captivating and four-dimensional--Maplewood's scenes with loving son Billy (Rufus Read), whose own open, innocent desire to experience ejaculation for the first time forces his father to confront his boy's burgeoning adolescence at a time when his own secret nature is getting the best of him--are gut-wrenching, to write the least.

Solondz has been compared to Neil LaBute, another angry young filmmaker who mines sick humour from decidedly serious situations. Comparing the not dissimilar Your Friends and Neighbours to Happiness reveals a major difference in attitude between the directors. Not one of Solondz's characters is the caricature that Jason Patric's hyper-misogynist gynecologist from the LaBute film is. LaBute's rogue's gallery is merely comprised, at least in his most recent work, of one-note jerks. In that regard, LaBute shows us who we don't want to be, and Solondz exposes what we are.

Asked to summarize Happiness, I would respond: a group of characters discover that acting upon their impulses, sexual and otherwise, will bring them temporary "happiness"--they seem to have ditched all notions of attaining it beyond superficially. What is happiness, anyway, and who said it could/should/would last? Solondz's film, from the charged opening scene (featuring a cameo by a raging Jon Lovitz!) to the melancholy (yet controversial) finish, is a breathtakingly naturalistic creation. I also appreciated the old-fashioned title cards--the film coincidentally shares its name with a silent.

Trimark has presented the 134-minute Happiness on one side of a single-layer DVD. Perhaps I've been spoiled by Fox of late, who have been sizing short movies to fit the length of RSDL discs, which allows for an increased bitrate--less compression. Turn the brightness up on Happiness and you'll notice a lot of pixellation on backgrounds. Shadow detail is sometimes poor and objects lack fine gradations. Flesh-tones, on the other hand, are accurate, and the colours, particularly the green in Dr. Maplewood's dream sequence, are vibrant without leaning towards oversaturation. Occasional interiors appear unintentionally soft, but the overall image is sharp and at times impressive. Happiness is presented in 1.85:1 but not 16x9 enhanced. Frankly, all criticims aside, Happiness looks better at home through a TV than it did when I saw it at last year's Toronto International Film Festival.

The soundtrack is Dolby Digital 4.0, though I can't recall much use of the surrounds, except perhaps during a scene involving a shotgun. Dialogue, on the other hand, is crisp, clear, and even when the characters are speaking close to a whisper, never too quiet. The only other extras on the disc are a trailer, some cast and crew bios, and a fine snapshot of Lara Flynn Boyle on the backside of the cover. Apparently, Trimark was willing to give Happiness the Special Edition treatment, but it never panned out. That the picture made it to DVD, period, is reason enough to break out the bubbly.-Bill Chambers