Hey folks, Harry here... Although its trailer looks pretty bad, apparently the film is... hysterical according to Capone, a man of discerning tastes. Steve Martin being funny is always a good thing. Here ya go...
Hey, Harry. Capone in Chicago here, catching up with you on a few things I’ve seen recently. If all goes as planned, I’ll be bombarding you over the next couple of days with all sorts of art-house gems opening across the country in the next few weeks. But to start things off, let me throw you a Hollywood bone, one that has yet to be reviewed on this site, called BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE.
Steve Martin doesn’t make that many movies anymore, and after enduring works like SGT. BILKO and THE OUT OF TOWNERS, I wasn’t missing him too much. He’s become an accomplished author, playwright, and Oscar host, so when he’s seen fit to do a film lately, I tend to get excited whether they are comedies or not. In the last few years, Martin has made films like NOVOCAINE, THE SPANISH PRISONER, JOE GOULD’S SECRET, and BOWFINGER, all films I enjoyed a great deal. BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE marks something of a return for Martin to film’s with a borderline sitcom premise, but that’s okay, because he has the help of an rising force in film to keep thing moving along and funny.
If you’d told me six months ago that Martin and Queen Latifah were making what is essentially a “Race” comedy together, I would have snarled and made you wish you were wearing rubber underwear. But then came CHICAGO. In particular, then came Queen Latifah’s knock-em-dead performance in CHICAGO. The confidence and balls she displays in CHICAGO, side by side with “real” actors, is nothing short of miraculous. In HOUSE, Latifah returns to the comedic arena. Don’t forget she honed her skills (or should that be skillz) for five years on T.V.’s “Living Single.” And she shines brightly in HOUSE in a much more substantial part than she had in CHICAGO. Latifah plays Charlene Morton, a woman in prison for a murder she swears she didn’t do. She meets lonely divorcee Peter Sanderson (Martin) via an internet chat room, and the two eventually agree to meet, him having no clue what she looks like or what her situation is.
When they finally meet and all is revealed, it turns out Charlene targeted Peter because of his reputation as a great lawyer (tax lawyer, actually, but who’s counting?). And after a series of incidents where Charlene plays the race card to nearly humiliate Peter, he agrees to take a look at her case and help her beat the rap. Part of what I liked about HOUSE is how Latifah’s character is able to hide in the background of Sanderson’s life. The way people in Peter’s life assume Charlene is a waitress, nanny, cook, etc. when she shows up on the scene is troubling to us, but she uses it to both hide and be in the middle of things when she needs to be. And don’t think for a second that with a hot mama like Queen Latifah in the film that there isn’t a little sexual tension between her and Martin. One sequence has her trying to teach Peter how to be more of a sexual wild man in an effort to get back his ex-wife (Jean Smart). Seeing Martin with his hands planted on Latifah’s ampleness made my heart skip a beat.
There are plenty of great supporting plays on hand as well. Eugene Levy plays Howie, a coworker of Peter’s and man greatly in need of some sweet cocoa lovin’ from Charlene. The gone-to-long Joan Plowright (who hadn’t actually stopped working, but I haven’t seen her since 1999’s TEA WITH MUSSOLINI) has some great moments as an ultra-conservative heiress client of Peter’s. Yes, you will see Plowright get stoned out of her mind with some brothas at an all-black club. It’s the funniest scene in the entire film. On the not-so-funny side of things, Betty White plays Peter’s nosy, racist neighbor and serves no purpose. Missi Pyle is Ashley, best friend or sister (I can’t remember which) to Peter’s ex-wife is lame as well, although this is more the fault of the writing than the performance. There’s a running gag about how Ashley only dates rich, old men; that’s original. The worst of the bunch is “Smallville’s” Michael Rosenbaum as the younger workplace nemesis of Peter. Every gag involving him bombs; maybe his wig was itchy. Still, these are minor characters that don’t collectively have enough screen time to wreck this otherwise hysterical film.
Director Adam Shankman (THE WEDDING PLANNER, A WALK TO REMEMBER) maintains the perfect pace for this film. He injects just the right amount of heart-felt family stuff to make this a good date movie without drowning us in cotton candy. Martin seems to be actually enjoying himself. His scene in the black club where he’s decked out in full hip-hop gear and slings the lingo like a pro is astonishingly good. I could barely understand what he was saying! (That’s a good thing.) Yes, most of the white characters take turns talking that jive talk, but it works here. There’s nothing condescending or hurtful about the way BRINGING DOWN THE HOUSE is put together. It’s a film full of energy, fun, great chemistry between the leads, and about one laugh every two minutes. Not bad. I believe the film opens in early March.
Capone
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