Well, ol Hercules is back with us again. He is an honest to goodness non-pawn of the system spy that I (and Moriarty) know and trust, sent straight down from Mt Olympus in a speedo with a lot of lotion and girls with cute togas following him around. This time out he's taking a look at the latest film written by David E Kelley (if you need me to tell you, go buy a tv set) and directed by AUSTIN POWERS bullhorn operator... Jay Roach. So... Without further beating round the bush... let's mush forward with this demigodly report...
MYSTERY, ALASKA
Directed by Jay Roach from a screenplay by David E. Kelley and Sean O’Byrne.
With Russell Crowe, Mary McCormack, Hank Azaria, Burt Reynolds, Lolita Davidovich, Colm Meaney, Maury Chaykin, Ron Eldard, Megyn Price, Michael McKean, Beth Littleford, and Mike Myers. 119 min. Rated R for language and sexuality.
*** (out of four)
David E. Kelley cannot put his pen down, and America is richer for it.
The man’s prolificacy is muscular enough to give Stephen King pause. Kelley writes virtually every episode of “Ally McBeal” and “The Practice” (that’s 44 hours of primetime a year) and, in at least my estimation, has yet to grind out a bad episode of either franchise. The two series were honored with top Emmys this year, “McBeal” for best comedy series, “Practice” for best drama.
“Mystery, Alaska” is every bit as funny as an “Ally McBeal” episode -- and this is not meant as faint praise. One of the dirtiest secrets in Hollywood is that Kelley’s teleplays are more entertaining than 99 percent of all feature screenplays produced, foreign or domestic. I’ll take John Cage, Richard Fish and Ling Woo over Austin Powers and the kids from “American Pie” any day.
Now the man behind McBeal has decided to spread himself thinner still, pounding out several episodes of “Chicago Hope,” the pilot for “Snoops” and a pair of major motion pictures.
More than a few critics and moviegoers found themselves utterly confounded by Kelley’s first 1999 big-screen venture. The fabulous, genre-immolating “Lake Placid” was a “Diner”-esque character comedy posing as a horror film, and boasted more big laughs than “The Spy Who Shagged Me” and “American Pie” combined. While it proved too unorthodox for those who would weeks later embrace “Deep Blue Sea,” most “McBeal” enthusiasts discovered they could resist the lure of a giant-crocodile movie.
“Mystery, Alaska” is just as funny as “Lake Placid,” but audiences will likely find it more accessible, thanks in large part to the far more conventional underdogs-vs.-status-quo contest that serves as the film’s spine. (Comedy and sports, after all, have proven a potent combination at least since “Mystery” player Burt Reynolds starred in “The Longest Yard” a quarter century ago.)
“Mystery’s” premise is big fun. How would the hot-shot “Saturday hockey team” of tiny Mystery, their players “born wearing skates” and raised on glacial pond ice, fare against the pros of the National Hockey League? When former a Mystery-boy-turned-big-city-sports-writer posits the question in a glowing “Sports Illustrated” cover story, the NHL takes the bait and agrees to send the New York Rangers to Mystery to take on these mythic demons of the rink in a nationally-televised network event.
Trouble is, this places the self-esteem of Mystery’s citizens in severe jeopardy. Decades as big fish in a small iced-over pond have convinced the locals that their team is as good as any in the pros. But what if they’ve been fooling themselves all these years? What if they’ve been deluding themselves over their sole claim to fame?
Confusion reigns, and all sorts of bizarre sexual dynamics are ignited -- as if this impending contest somehow threatens the end of the world (which, in one sense, it does). The judge’s daughter throws herself at the team’s newest star, the mayor’s wife throws herself at a team vet, and the sheriff’s wife finds herself contemplating the visiting sportswriter, a still-smoldering high school flame.
As with “Placid,” one of the joys of “Mystery” is seeing what TV vet Kelley can do with an R rating. The intriguing sexual subplots are seasoned by many deftly-deployed not-ready-for-prime-time expletives, and outsider Michael McKean’s deep-blue tirade against the characters of Mystery may be the funniest since Steve Martin took on car-rental clerk Edie McClurg in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.”
Also of note is the great Reynolds, who – as the town’s judge and voice of caution – contributes humor and dignity in his best performance since “Breaking In” a decade ago.
The big, giant, serious flaw in “Mystery” is the game itself. The comedy pretty much comes to a screeching halt for 15 or 20 minutes once the Rangers take to the ice, and the real-life Rangers do not make for effectively cinematic bad guys. (As a point of comparison, the big match does not compare favorably to the Indians’ face-off against the Yankees in the original “Major League.”) Still, there are twists, and the movie rebounds.
Director Jay Roach, who shot “Mystery” between his two “Austin Powers” epics, does little to impede Kelley’s material, and should be commended for the effort. His main contribution to this film may have been the recruitment of Dr. Evil himself, Mike Myers, who provides an extended cameo as the indecisive ex-great who provides commentary for the match. Those who appreciate Myers’ genius may be disheartened to find he renders perhaps the weakest performance in the movie.
No matter. A flawed David Kelley movie is still leagues ahead of the turdly likes of “For Love of the Game” and “Jakob the Liar.” If “Mystery” isn’t quite a hat trick, neither is it skating on thin ice.
Do not defy me.
I am ... Hercules!
