Dinner for Schmucks is Exhibit A of evidence that the very most important part of any comedy is the screenplay. It reminds us that scribes like Judd Apatow, Seth Rogen, or Will Ferrell, are so rare and gifted that they make their contemporaries look amateurish.
How can a comedic enterprise with Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, Zach Galifianakis, and Ron Livingston be so spectacularly unsuccessful?
The problem is something called David Guion and Michael Handelman, who have the writing credits for this film. This hallowed duo’s only other motion picture was The Ex (2006), a vehicle I can scarcely recall even being released on the big screen in spite of its noteworthy cast.
Their inability to utilize the talent in this case, most of who are at the peak of their comedic powers, is further damned by the fact that the premise of the film is based on a French flick called Dîner de cons. Yes, this means that the only redeeming scene in Dinner for Schmucks, the actual dinner (which only makes up 15 or so minutes), ISN’T EVEN AN ORIGINAL FUCKING IDEA.
The movie itself is an empty morality play that serves no real purpose.
Most of the one-liners are hacky and the few that that could succeed are marred by the cast’s seeming understanding that, since they cannot make the script serviceable, their only real role here is to print money.
Moments that are supposed to be uproarious because they are cringe-worthy instead imparted feelings of wanton discomfort, an especially incredible feat because I watched the movie alone.
And, maybe I really shouldn’t be going so far as to deconstruct characters given its goofball/slapstick nature, but Carell’s role, Barry, is just so poorly and bizarrely conceived that it warrants mentioning. He is alternately neurotic, sociopathic, autistic, and compassionate. At times he even ventures into the realm of severe mental retardation. Given the plot, although the suspension of belief comes with the territory, to develop a character that is more bewildering than funny is a truly astounding accomplishment of fail.
It would seem that Guion and Handelman’s only real aptitude is for sucking the abilities of their otherwise critically-acclaimed actors into a vacuum of appalling and driving me to Fleshbot within 20 minutes of the opening credits.
In the end, however, the joke may really be on rational thought and human progress. Of the fairly substantial sample-size of 69,000 members of the movie-watching populace who cared to share their opinion on Rotten Tomatoes, 54% “liked it”.
For me, this really just confirms what I already suspected, that most people who express their opinions on the Internet are probably schmucks*. Or in my case, a complete asshole.
No Go. Watch the dinner scene on YouTube if you must.
How can a comedic enterprise with Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, Zach Galifianakis, and Ron Livingston be so spectacularly unsuccessful?
The problem is something called David Guion and Michael Handelman, who have the writing credits for this film. This hallowed duo’s only other motion picture was The Ex (2006), a vehicle I can scarcely recall even being released on the big screen in spite of its noteworthy cast.
Their inability to utilize the talent in this case, most of who are at the peak of their comedic powers, is further damned by the fact that the premise of the film is based on a French flick called Dîner de cons. Yes, this means that the only redeeming scene in Dinner for Schmucks, the actual dinner (which only makes up 15 or so minutes), ISN’T EVEN AN ORIGINAL FUCKING IDEA.
The movie itself is an empty morality play that serves no real purpose.
Most of the one-liners are hacky and the few that that could succeed are marred by the cast’s seeming understanding that, since they cannot make the script serviceable, their only real role here is to print money.
Moments that are supposed to be uproarious because they are cringe-worthy instead imparted feelings of wanton discomfort, an especially incredible feat because I watched the movie alone.
And, maybe I really shouldn’t be going so far as to deconstruct characters given its goofball/slapstick nature, but Carell’s role, Barry, is just so poorly and bizarrely conceived that it warrants mentioning. He is alternately neurotic, sociopathic, autistic, and compassionate. At times he even ventures into the realm of severe mental retardation. Given the plot, although the suspension of belief comes with the territory, to develop a character that is more bewildering than funny is a truly astounding accomplishment of fail.
It would seem that Guion and Handelman’s only real aptitude is for sucking the abilities of their otherwise critically-acclaimed actors into a vacuum of appalling and driving me to Fleshbot within 20 minutes of the opening credits.
In the end, however, the joke may really be on rational thought and human progress. Of the fairly substantial sample-size of 69,000 members of the movie-watching populace who cared to share their opinion on Rotten Tomatoes, 54% “liked it”.
For me, this really just confirms what I already suspected, that most people who express their opinions on the Internet are probably schmucks*. Or in my case, a complete asshole.
No Go. Watch the dinner scene on YouTube if you must.
*Schmuck entered English as a borrowed pejorative from a common Yiddish insult. The Online Etymology Dictionary derives it from the Polish word smok for dragon, as a euphemism for "penis". (Author’s note: )
I remember this being reviewed poorly when it was released in theaters but I figured due to the cast I would give it a flier on Netflix. It's astonishing to me that Carrell has these vehicles (Dan in Real Life, the Noah's Ark movie, Get Smart) where things can flame out so spectacularly. I say this because he's such a talent on The Office.
ReplyDeleteBenny, I also wanted to let you know that I missed your writing. I think movies might be the right temperature for this degree of analysis.
great views on what seems to be a subpar showing on screen. a shame, like you both said, given the heavy-hitters who signed on. thanks for saving me the time.
ReplyDelete