His excitement grew as he clicked the link to Movievangelist and found that there was a new post: "Stranger Than Fiction"

I shouldn't have been surprised, and yet I was. After all, I'm on record being a bigger fan of the more reserved Will Ferrell, which, from the trailers, appeared to be the case with this movie. Still, I didn't expect him to be a part of something that was actually interesting vs. simply juvenile.

I recall wanting to see "Stranger That Fiction" when it came out last year, but I suspect other movies jumped ahead of it on my list. That, or My Everlasting Beloved and I were near the stretch run of Project Offspring. In any case, it came and went, and it wasn't until Netflix brought the movie into my house that I got to see everyone's favorite anchorman show his stuff as a hapless puppet.

Our story has Ferrell as a bland IRS agent -- not a loser, per se, but just ... there. This is outlined with a voiceover at the very beginning. Soon, though, that narration becomes audible to Ferrell's character. Since the voice is talking about him, our hero becomes understandably curious and -- when death is mentioned -- concerned. Hey, I would be, too.

Meanwhile, a novelist (Emma Thompson) is struggling to finish her latest book, which is supposed to be fiction but has a hero who bears an uncanny resemblance to Ferrell. And check it out: She has the same voice as the one Will hears in his head. Connected? Nah.

While Thompson tries to figure out an ending -- with the help of Queen Latifah, of all people, Ferrell seeks help in figuring out (a) where the voice is coming from and (b) if he is, in fact, going to die. His main counsel: a literary professor played by Dustin Hoffman. Oh, and there's the matter of a budding romance with a baker played by the terminally cute Maggie Gylllllllllllenhaaaaaaaaal, who, even with a big ol' tattoo on her arm, lights up the screen with that shiny face. Love her. (Even before she showed the goods in "SherryBaby," which was a little discombobulating, I must say.)

It's a goofy story that clearly requires much suspension of disbelief. I guess you could almost call it fantasy, despite the normal appearance of everyone and apparent setting of "real life." As such, some things don't work. Queen Latifah, for instance, is a perfectly fine actress, but neither her part nor her skills are needed here, and it shows. Thompson also has been better. Not that she's bad here, but I kept thinking Meryl Streep -- who was in her own weird book-writing movie, "Adaptation." -- would have knocked this out of the park. (Then again, Meryl Streep could have knocked "Battlefield Earth" out of the park. Yeah, she's that good.)

Those are little things, though, in a movie that I generally enjoyed. The plot was one reason; it's just a fun idea executed relatively well. Ferrell and Gyllenhaal, and their chemisty together, is another. Like I said at the top, Ferrell's more subdued skills are underappreciated; my favorite part of "Old School" isn't the yelling or screaming, but the part in the marriage counselor's office where he's talking about the Olive Garden waitress and her underwear. Classic.

This isn't license for the guy to go get all "Jim Carrey in 'The Majestic'" on us. No, no "serious" movies, please. But the lower-key stuff works, and maybe think about how to run with that vs. running around a race track wearing a helmet and tighty-whiteys. Besides, Jack Black almost has the Hanes briefs market cornered, doesn't he?

In short, I thought Ferrell's performance worked well here, enough that I bought the thing between him and my girl Maggie. So much that I wish I had thought to bring her flours. (Not a misprint. You'll know what I mean if you see this movie.)