When I first saw Napoleon Dynamite (which was most likely around the time of its original release) I found it funny but unremarkable, the kind of well-meaning independent comedies that had good intentions, but became unbearable once audiences adopted the mannerisms of the characters, making them part of their personality, which was funny for a few moments, but rapidly aged. Revisiting it nearly two decades later, my opinion is mostly intact, with the original reaction of this film being that it had some good ideas, but just executed them in a way that was far from ideal, ultimately leaving too much unexplored. The paltry 82-minute running time does not do the film any favours either, especially when it is made exceptionally clear that only about half of the ideas introduced throughout the film would be explored. Ultimately, Napoleon Dynamite is a film that navigates a very narrow boundary between being charming and insufferable – but if this isn’t one of the most endearing films of its era, then absolutely nothing else is. Viewing it through the perspective of the countless films it inspired is logically going to tarnish its reputation, especially when it wasn’t free of shortcomings in the first place – but imperfections have been a fundamental component of independent cinema since its inception, with the best filmmakers being those who can not only recognize these flaws, but openly embrace them and weave them into the narrative. Jared Hess, along with his wife Jerusha Hess (who served as a co-producer, helping construct the story) crafts a hilariously funny, insightful comedy about a socially-awkward young man navigating the treacherous world of adolescence, while still trying to remain an individual in an environment populated by people who define themselves according to the status quo, rather than embracing their own individuality – and as the adage says, why try to fit in when you were born to stand out?

On a purely narrative level, Napoleon Dynamite is a film formed mainly out of positioning us in the shoes of the main character, a young man hopelessly lost in the world of teenage angst. He is as unpopular as can be, and seems to be far too invested in his own interests to actually pay it too much attention. The film is primarily a coming-of-age comedy, and much like those that surrounded it on either side, it uses an awkward individual as its protagonist, since there is a belief fervently held by those in the world of independent cinema that viewers simply do not want to see the lives of those who are popular reflected on screen, not only because we don’t enjoy seeing them given much importance, but also because there simply are not enough stories that can be told, with the total lack of conflict between them leading to rather dull stories. The hook that catches us and endears us to Napoleon Dynamite is that the titular character could be any of us – while I’d hope most viewers are more sociable and self-aware than Napoleon, he has quirks that make him an oddly resonant figure, someone who the viewer can engage with more than we could with a more conventional character. This doesn’t mean that Napoleon Dynamite is immune to criticism – if anything, the film can sometimes feel weighed down by the sheer volume of eccentricity that forms the foundation of the story. It is well-documented that Hess, along with Jon Heder, developed this story while a student at university, and it is extremely clear that this is the work of a newcomer. It doesn’t necessarily mean that the film isn’t good, but that it has certain qualities that a more seasoned director may have been likely to have avoided, rather than making them the centrepiece of the entire film.

Napoleon Dynamite is a likeable film, and much of this comes through in Heder’s performance, which has become almost folkloric. His idiosyncratic style and unique way of speaking (tonally and in terms of vocabulary) have made him an iconic figure in 21st-century cinema, with many imitators, both literal and metaphorical, emerging over the years. Heder is terrific in the film, particularly since he avoids making Napoleon a stereotype, instead doing more complex work that may not be visible at first, but becomes more clear as we further voyage through the film and see exactly how complex the construction of the character is. He may be a bundle of eccentric quirks, but he’s still a human, and Heder deters every bit of self-serving humour – there comes a point where one makes the startling discovery that Napoleon is a fictional construction, played by an actor who is not anything like the character he is playing, proving how incredibly convincing Heder is as an actor, since he momentarily fools us into thinking that he is this character. The rest of the cast is excellent too, with Efren Ramirez, Tina Majorino, Jon Gries and Aaron Ruell playing family and friends of the titular character, all of them seemingly matching with Heder on a deeper level and conveying the same straight-faced candour that makes Napoleon Dynamite such a lovable film. If there are problems with the film, none of them come on behalf of the actors, who do their part to embrace the peculiarities of the story, going in search of something much different than what we had seen previously, while maintaining the same level of bizarre humour that propels most of the narrative, never once breaking character in fear of detracting from the very strange but compelling atmosphere that surrounds the film and makes it so unique.

In trying to understand the success of Napoleon Dynamite, we have to look at why it was such a major revelation at the time – it wasn’t the first time we had seen a puzzling independent comedy about an awkward teenager, since Todd Solondz and John Waters had both done similar work in Welcome to the Dollhouse and Hairspray respectively. However, Napoleon Dynamite was not aiming for the midnight movie crowd, but rather viewers who were more attuned to more pedestrian sensibilities without losing the value of the original work. One of the most revolutionary acts that an artist can do is making the mainstream embrace the abstract, which is exactly what this film does so well. It never sacrifices its intentional peculiarities in favour of appealing to the mass market, but is still charming enough to be enjoyed by a much wider audience. A lot of this comes through in the humour – Hess has a very distinct style of telling jokes, using ridiculous characters with deadpan personalities as his main protagonists, and making the villains the more charming, outgoing individuals, creating an imbalance where we are forced to laugh at ordinary people with no discernible flaws, while being enamoured with individuals who would be considered deranged at the best of times. This leads to some hilarious situations that factor in a lot of what has defined millenial humour – awkward scenarios, accompanied by peculiar characters that resemble those who are more marginalized, all of which are thrown together to form this very odd but captivating example of deadpan dark humour that has an even more potent abundance of heart when we look beyond the exterior.

Napoleon Dynamite is not a perfect film, and there is an argument to be made that this is a clear case of a film’s reputation being more valuable than the work itself, since it has been embraced by a global audience that has become so invested in reminding everyone to its supposed perfection, we can’t help but start to feel somewhat disappointed when the expectations were found to be somewhat overblown. However, like with any work of art, it is important to separate the reaction from the product itself – and taking it for what it is, Napoleon Dynamite is an undeniably charming film about a peculiar young man making his way through suburban Idaho, in the hopes of just being able to be himself, refusing to buckle to society’s expectations, which he sees as an unquestionably restrictive way of living his life. The film may have too many ideas simmering, without having the right amount of time to see all these storylines through (and could’ve either done with a slightly longer running time, or a more precise approach to editing out what is not absolutely essential), and it is clearly a work in progress, the kind of early film by a young and ambitious filmmaker who would go on to refine his craft in later years, using this as a spring-board for both experience and as a place to test out his unique brand of humour, which would subsequently become the basis for a few very funny films in later years. Napoleon Dynamite is a wonderfully sweet film, being one of the rare instances where a story focused on someone so socially awkward manages to be compassionate, rarely aiming for the low-hanging fruit, and instead going in search of something slightly more elusive. Whatever this may be, and whether it was eventually found, is all up to the viewer’s individual interpretation, making for an actively engaging, and perpetually charming, cinematic experience.