Ah, Little Fockers. A definite holiday season must-see on any avid moviegoer's list. The bf and I saw it last Thursday night in a theater that was a bit more crowded than you'd expect on a weeknight.
It was cute. It was funny. It was considerably better than How Do You Know, which we saw New Year's Day. The bf thought it lacked a strong storyline, and maybe that was true. But to me, it was the logical third installment of a story about the progression of love. Meet the Parents was about the universal awkwardness of meeting a girlfriend's parents for the first time. Meet the Fockers was about getting married, having a baby, and the blending of two unlikely families. Little Fockers is about what happens after the babies come. Still happy and in love, the Fockers muddle through the typical minefields that beset couples their age: moving to a bigger house, child rearing, and the threat of infidelity. Not that that last one is a real land mine. Ever the good guy, Ben Stiller's Greg Focker never really considers bedding beautiful and flirtatious drug rep Andi Garcia (insert laugh here), played by Jessica Alba. Still, Andi's there for a reason, if only to prove the strength of Greg and Pam's relationship.
Serious analysis aside, the movie was definitely entertaining. I think my favorite part was when Kevin (Owen Wilson), Pam's ever-ingratiating ex, performs acrobatics in a white spandex suit at the elaborate circus-themed birthday party he throws for Greg and Pam's twins.
Showing posts with label How Do You Know. Show all posts
Showing posts with label How Do You Know. Show all posts
Monday, January 10, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Movie Moment: How Do You Know
Today I dragged the bf to see How Do You Know. I figured anything starring Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd had to be good, right?
Not quite.
The heroine of How Do You Know is Lisa (Witherspoon), a world-class softball player who is unexpectedly cut from the U. S. woman's team, a disappointment so crushing that it throws her alternately into the arms of pro pitcher Matty (Owen Wilson), a self-absorbed good-timer with a bathroom full of toothbrushes and identical pink sweatsuits at the ready for female overnight guests, and George (Rudd), a self-deprecating good guy who runs his father's (Jack Nicholson's) corporation and is in danger of being indicted for some murky white collar crime or other that he presumably didn't commit.
I usually love Witherspoon. But I didn't find the indecisive, whiny career softball player Lisa to be sympathetic (to her credit, Lisa admits to the whiny part during a breakthrough discussion with George). She agrees to move in with Matty just weeks after they meet, only to become embroiled in a series of volatile arguments with him. Although her chemistry with George is more convincing, it sometimes seems like she's taking advantage of this overeager Baxter who just happens to be facing serious jail time. By comparison, Lisa's most pressing worry is that she "doesn't have what it takes for everyone else's normal plan" (ie, marriage and babies).
I think that most of these issues could have been masked, if not remedied, by a hefty dose of humor. But on the whole, the movie isn't funny, its few zingers having been spoiled by the trailers.
How Do You Know has its moments. The scene in which George's secretary's boyfriend proposes in the hospital room after she gives birth to their baby is particularly touching, especially because said boyfriend is presented as a commitmentphobic tool earlier in the film (happily, we learn that he's anything but). Lisa witnesses it all and is terribly moved. You can almost see the cartoon light bulb go on over her head to signal that she's thinking, hey, maybe marriage and babies aren't so bad after all.
Of course, George doesn't go to jail, which is fortunate, as Rudd is easily the best part of the movie, effortlessly delivering his signature dry wit (not that I'm a bit biased, what with him being my favorite actor.) And of course, he gets Lisa. Which is good. I'm just not so crazy about the way he gets her, or at least, about the way the movie ends. Lisa's just returned Matty's birthday gift of a diamond watch and ditched his party to meet George. And George says that just maybe she did it because she realized she loves him too.
This is the sort of behavior that gives romantic comedies a bad name. Lisa and George have only just decided to start dating, and already George is professing his love. It's not even clear why they're attracted to each other, aside from the vague common ground of their desperate situations. Everyone knows that the love part comes much later, and that sensible people don't utter a word about it until a) one person has at least a pair of emergency underwear at the other person's place, b) it no longer sounds creepy, and c) they're fairly certain the other person will say it back.
As the bf and I filed out of the theater, he turned to me and said, "That was two hours of my life that I'll never get back." I agreed that the movie had been kind of weak. It certainly rates a rent, though. Years from now, when it's being rerun on TBS, I'm sure I'll be knee-deep in felt or sequins or something, watching it as I craft.
Not quite.
The heroine of How Do You Know is Lisa (Witherspoon), a world-class softball player who is unexpectedly cut from the U. S. woman's team, a disappointment so crushing that it throws her alternately into the arms of pro pitcher Matty (Owen Wilson), a self-absorbed good-timer with a bathroom full of toothbrushes and identical pink sweatsuits at the ready for female overnight guests, and George (Rudd), a self-deprecating good guy who runs his father's (Jack Nicholson's) corporation and is in danger of being indicted for some murky white collar crime or other that he presumably didn't commit.
I usually love Witherspoon. But I didn't find the indecisive, whiny career softball player Lisa to be sympathetic (to her credit, Lisa admits to the whiny part during a breakthrough discussion with George). She agrees to move in with Matty just weeks after they meet, only to become embroiled in a series of volatile arguments with him. Although her chemistry with George is more convincing, it sometimes seems like she's taking advantage of this overeager Baxter who just happens to be facing serious jail time. By comparison, Lisa's most pressing worry is that she "doesn't have what it takes for everyone else's normal plan" (ie, marriage and babies).
I think that most of these issues could have been masked, if not remedied, by a hefty dose of humor. But on the whole, the movie isn't funny, its few zingers having been spoiled by the trailers.
How Do You Know has its moments. The scene in which George's secretary's boyfriend proposes in the hospital room after she gives birth to their baby is particularly touching, especially because said boyfriend is presented as a commitmentphobic tool earlier in the film (happily, we learn that he's anything but). Lisa witnesses it all and is terribly moved. You can almost see the cartoon light bulb go on over her head to signal that she's thinking, hey, maybe marriage and babies aren't so bad after all.
Of course, George doesn't go to jail, which is fortunate, as Rudd is easily the best part of the movie, effortlessly delivering his signature dry wit (not that I'm a bit biased, what with him being my favorite actor.) And of course, he gets Lisa. Which is good. I'm just not so crazy about the way he gets her, or at least, about the way the movie ends. Lisa's just returned Matty's birthday gift of a diamond watch and ditched his party to meet George. And George says that just maybe she did it because she realized she loves him too.
This is the sort of behavior that gives romantic comedies a bad name. Lisa and George have only just decided to start dating, and already George is professing his love. It's not even clear why they're attracted to each other, aside from the vague common ground of their desperate situations. Everyone knows that the love part comes much later, and that sensible people don't utter a word about it until a) one person has at least a pair of emergency underwear at the other person's place, b) it no longer sounds creepy, and c) they're fairly certain the other person will say it back.
As the bf and I filed out of the theater, he turned to me and said, "That was two hours of my life that I'll never get back." I agreed that the movie had been kind of weak. It certainly rates a rent, though. Years from now, when it's being rerun on TBS, I'm sure I'll be knee-deep in felt or sequins or something, watching it as I craft.
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