"We brought casseroles"

I recently saw the indie flick Lars and the Real Girl, presumably playing at a theater near you. By paying careful attention to license plates and a map posted on the protagonists' cubicle, I was able to discern that the movie is set in a small town in Wisconsin, although the Internet Movie Database informs me that it was actually shot in Ontario. No matter. I was pleased to see a movie portraying Wisconsinites (and rural Wisconsinites at that) as exceedingly thoughtful, considerate people, and not just buffoons with the silly-Midwestern-accented, hideous-sweater-wearing, mayonnaise-eating rap they are often given in the media. Although these characteristics do find their way into the movie, they are counteracted by the overarching portrayal of the townspeople, who -- and humor me as I toss a little medieval Spanish literature your way -- , like Fuenteovejuna in Lope de Vega's play of the same name, become a single, pivotal voice as the film progresses.

I'm not from this rural Wisconsin, but I've spent my share of time among these folks -- hell, I'm related to a few of them -- and I think in general they get a bad rap on big and small screens: Wisconsin stands for bored, bong-hitting teenagers in "That '70s Show;" for eccentric farmers who drive tractors instead of cars in "The Straight Story;" for a state that purports Rodney Dangerfield as a pot-bellied high diver in "Back to School." Lars and the Real Girl may not hit any greater truths than any of these shows or movies, but at least rural Wisconsin is not held up to a lower standard of ridicule than any other Midwestern state in the film.

But, it is true, casseroles are ubiquitous in Wisconsin. (Many involve jello.)