Thursday, May 22, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: Deus ex Ventura

Jim Carrey tries being Jimmy Stewart again in Bruce Almighty

By Tammy McMahan

It's easy to condemn Jim Carrey movies as mindless, slapstick dreck (Dumb & Dumber, The Mask). But once in a while there's just the right vehicle for his histrionic talents. While director Tom Shadyac (Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, Liar Liar) hasn't crafted a Capraesque masterpiece, Bruce Almighty is undeniably sweet, humorous and poignant. As usual, Jim overacts, but it's appropriate and even endearing at times.

Carrey plays Bruce Nolan, a Buffalo, N.Y., TV reporter who feels he's living the life of Job. His assignments, human-interest stories, seem inconsequential and he's ridiculed by his peers--one of whom (Steve Carell) seems destined for the anchor position Bruce covets. His long-suffering girlfriend, Grace (Jennifer Aniston, whose considerable comedic talents are wasted here), tries comforting him to no avail.

When Bruce rails at God (Morgan Freeman), the indulgent deity endows him with his powers and lets Nolan run the earthly show. Bruce's spiritual journey takes him from selfish fulfillment to the realization of God's responsibilities and the complications humankind's free will presents.

Hollywood is known for its schmaltzy sentimentality and anti-religion stance. The script, by Steve Koren, Mark O'Keefe and Steve Oedekerk, has some cringe-inducing lines about everyday miracles and, undoubtedly, some viewers will have problems with its characterization of God. However, there are sublime revelations about self-acceptance and unconditional love.

Eschewing the cinematic stereotype of a cold, imperious deity, Freeman's omnipotent being presents a refreshing change--a warm, gentle, savvy, dignified and authoritative sovereign.

Although Carrey may never be the next Jimmy Stewart, he continues trying (see The Truman Show and The Majestic). Bruce Nolan is a slightly more whiny, spiteful version of George Bailey, as an extract from It's a Wonderful Life reminds us. But he remains appealing, thanks to Carrey's unique charms and goofy antics.

Ultimately, brothers and sisters, let us praise Bruce.

Prenuptial disagreement

Weddings--hearts, flowers, boring and/or crazy relatives and inane situations galore. Watching The In-Laws is as excruciating as being at the big event's losers table with crazy Aunt Mabel, your 47-year-old cousin who speaks Klingon and the drunken lech no one knows.

Like Arthur Hiller's 1979 version, starring Peter Falk and Alan Arkin, Andrew Fleming's remake involves an odd couple placed in spy thriller/screwball comedy scenarios before their children's nuptials. In the update, undercover CIA agent Steve Tobias (Michael Douglas) and neurotic podiatrist Jerry Peyser (Albert Brooks) get to know each other in the midst of international intrigue as Steve's son Mark (Ryan Reynolds) and Jerry's daughter Melissa (Lindsay Sloane) prepare to marry. The similarities end there.

The original, written by Alan Bergman (who also co-wrote Blazing Saddles), featured satisfying comedy, two male leads who clicked, and some supporting roles that were given a measure, albeit small, of depth. The update is a miserable affair with comedy that's either lame or offensive, pacing that's horribly disjointed, leads completely lacking chemistry and a supporting cast that's uninteresting to the point of annoyance.

Here, the humor is devoid of freshness and energy. Instead, screenwriters Nat Mauldin and Ed Solomon lazily rely upon stereotypes of the super-spy, the middle class and gays. In fact, the gay humor (with David Suchet as a flaming French arms trafficker) is sufficiently abhorrent to incite Stonewall II. Furthermore, the movement of the action is a series of confusing jumps from spy stuff to wedding stuff.

With such weak foundations, the characters suffer mightily. The interaction of Douglas' Tobias and Brooks' Peyser is brain-numbingly dull. The supporting players, (including Robin Tunney, Candice Bergen and Maria Ricossa) are dreadfully cartoonish as they mechanically play out their one-dimensional roles.

Please, folks, call off this wedding.