Based on one of those true stories that are memorable, but not exactly incredible, regional human interest writer Skip Hollandsworth’s 1998 Texas Monthly piece on Bernie Tiede provides the basis for this comedic drama. Bernie is a progressive, burrowing exploration of not merely the events of the story but of Bernie himself, revealing the man in a deliberately impartial way. He’s a charismatic yet flawed local hero, and it’s no surprise that Linklater—an intelligent, morally liberal wanna-be philosopher—would be drawn to this subtly compelling tale of an ostensibly “good” person who commits a grave mistake. The director of Slacker and The Waking Life brings his heady sociological sense to what is here a much more conventional film.

The great Shirley MacLaine is Marjorie Nugent, the unfriendly widow of a wealthy oil tycoon, with whom Bernie forges an unlikely bond. The duo start out as peas in a pod, going on trips together, attending social events until her eventual nastiness, which for a time Bernie must have turned a blind eye, gets the better of the sensitive man, and he shoots her in a moment of frustration and is subsequently charged with her murder.

Bernie is not a mystery, yet there is a long, slow tension that occurs due to the methodically revealed details of Bernie’s personality. It has an unlikely edge-of-your-seat feel. For the cinema-goer accustomed to easy interpretations, this might be a tough one to get into at first. Linklater, seemingly understanding this, allows a lot of casual time with Bernie at the top of the film, where not much seems to happen aside from a day in the life of the quaint but cultured East Texas town of Carthage. Linklater uses faux documentary interviews with townspeople (some played by actors), most of whom, having already disliked the old bat, defend Bernie to the end. One of the things that make this film so wonderfully complex is the variety of common opinions about Bernie, which range from the sympathetic townsfolk to the gregarious and suspicious D.A., nicely portrayed by Matthew McConaughey.

Jack Black is Bernie to the letter. Physically, this performance is no less than perfect. He sports high-waisted slacks and has the delicate posture of a vaguely effeminate Southern gentleman. Bernie walks daintily, holds his head high, and is often found singing at services as part of his responsibilities as assistant funeral director. Look, I knew Jack Black had pipes, but he’s uncannily good. My word. The biggest takeaway, though, is his ability to pull off this tightrope act. Let’s not forget Black was a talented character actor before we realized how hilarious he was. Black’s achievement here is in remaining perpetually likeable while always keeping something hidden behind those otherwise emotive eyes.

The film is about a lot of things, but community values are near the top of the list. Bernie is a do-gooder who spent a lot of Mrs. Nugent’s money on positive local projects, church renovations, and charity. The widow herself was a scrooge-like curmudgeon whose home office featured a prominent oil painting of, yes, Texas oil fields. On whether it’s wrong to spend someone else’s money, the film (and the Carthage residents) seem content to hold discourse on the distribution of wealth rather than the base details of the actual criminal charges. Bernie’s crime is not the issue for most of the townsfolk. For them, his intentions are on trial.

The film appeals both to the heart and the head. Bernie may have had more success with the former, but Linklater does a fine job with both here, offering a film you can’t walk away from without feeling something and striking up a conversation about it. The credits close on a touching behind-the-scenes shot of the real-life Bernie with Jack Black researching the role. The filmmaking process here achieves the same thing the gossiping locals do—a way to judge people outside of a mere court of law. And in this case it seems like a fair trial to me.