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The worst films of the year
12 September 2005
This weekend, we decided to relax and rent a movie, something we often do on weekends. Because of the stressful, emotional times, I decided a light comedy might suit us best (I had wanted to watch Kurosawa's Ran, which I bought on eBay, but thought it might be a little heavy for the moment). The off-the-shelf choice was Monster-in-Law. Big mistake.
We were treated to what must be one of the greatest wastes of money since Mulroney's time as Prime Minister. If this entirely predictable, bland production had a storyboard, it must have been written in crayon.
First of all, it features (I hesitate to use the word "stars") Jane Fonda, brought back from the career dead to overact the role of a self-centred harpy ("Viola") whose main focus in her otherwise pointless existence is to make life miserable for her co-featurette and impending daughter-in-law, played (not "acted") by Jennifer Lopez. Fonda - once a powerful actress who showed great strength in her personal political beliefs - is given a monochromatic role with no redeeming characteristics until the last five minutes until her epiphany minutes before the climax.
Epiphany is a word Jay Lo uses about that time - I believe it's the only multi-syllabic word she uses in the film. Otherwise she might have better stayed home and mailed her part in. Lopez plays a passably attractive young woman ("Charlie")who works several jobs, but otherwise has no redeeming characteristics or any depth - at least none we are shown. For the working poor, she is remarkably able to rent comfortable and spacious quarters.
Fonda overacts, Lopez barely underacts (repeating her role as a cute meat puppet in The Wedding Planner), both within limited ranges of emotion. I wanted to see the film for Fonda, because I once had respect for her abilities. Obviously she's forgotten where she left them. She has one speed in this film: strident.
Between these two women is Michael Vartan, playing Viola's son ("Keith"), a succcessful, well-to-do doctor who, of course, falls for Charlie after they first make eye contact, although nothing in the film explains why - aside from physical attraction - they are a match. He has a little to do in the film aside from act the romantic stud who hangs around Charlie, but most of the time his role could have been played by a cardboard cut-out. He's supposedly a doctor - but of what? Where? Who are his colleagues?
Keith and Charlie have a sort-of relationship that's not delved into, just portrayed through a series of sappy interludes and professions of eternal sweetness. They don't fight like real people, have bad hair moments, or even have sex. Not that you'd expect skin in a flick like this, but you never get the feeling these two even touch each other intimately, let alone play hide-the-salami. There's no romance, no spark between them.
Viola, who smothers her son in a way better saved for Greek tragedies, wants her son to marry a blonde fluffette who appears maybe twice in the film, so we're not sure why, aside from having a perky nose. Viola has the arrogance of the rich, so she tries to use it to drive Charlie away, but the plucky girl stays with her man (ah, for a Dolly Parton song at this moment...). But Charlie's made of sterner stuff. What stuff, we never find out, since we never get any insight into what's under that semi-cute exterior.
None of these characters aside from Viola has any past (let alone depth), and even Viola's is only marginally hinted at, with a single introductory scene. She's supposedly a TV interviewer up there with Barbara Walters, but the impression of her past is so quickly glossed over, we have no feeling fer her as more than the on-screen harridan she presents.
So we have a cast of two-dimensional characters who engage in a lot of actions and reactions without explanations as to their reason or rhyme. And in between they utter sound bytes instead of dialogue.
Everything moves stodgily forward towards the inevitable cat-fight-redemption ending. There are no surpises, no twists, turns or even highlights.
Riches-and-rags stories are fluffy-cute. Thrown in the conniving mother-in-law who makes the heroine miserable almost ready to break, and then give the heroine a reversal to fight back. Yawn... the only reason I can figure out for including Fonda's vitriolic character is to keep the saccharine level low enough so viewers don't end up with diabetes.
It might have been saved somewhat by the presence of Wanda Sykes as Ruby, Viola's personal assistant, but she's not given enough screen time, and despite having the film's rare witty comments, she, too, is given no depth to work with.
Like the atrocious and insipid Meet the Fokkers, Monster-in-Law is about as entertaining as watching paint dry, and as a romantic comedy, is little less romantic than, say, Shaun of the Dead. On the good side, there are no memorable moments in this flick that will haunt your waking hours.
For some unknown reason, the DVD comes with a second disk of "special features" including thew obligatory director's commentary and deleted scenes. Unless one is an entirely besotted fan of either actress, I can't imagine who would waste even another five minutes watching this stuff. After all, how bad can these deleted scenes be if they weren't good enough to remain in a terminally dull movie like this?
Unless you have a need to punish yourself, or your life is so shallow you simply can't get enough of Jay-Lo, then give this one a wide berth. It joins Meet the Fokkers, AVP, and Sideways for the worst films of the year challenge.
We were treated to what must be one of the greatest wastes of money since Mulroney's time as Prime Minister. If this entirely predictable, bland production had a storyboard, it must have been written in crayon.
First of all, it features (I hesitate to use the word "stars") Jane Fonda, brought back from the career dead to overact the role of a self-centred harpy ("Viola") whose main focus in her otherwise pointless existence is to make life miserable for her co-featurette and impending daughter-in-law, played (not "acted") by Jennifer Lopez. Fonda - once a powerful actress who showed great strength in her personal political beliefs - is given a monochromatic role with no redeeming characteristics until the last five minutes until her epiphany minutes before the climax.
Epiphany is a word Jay Lo uses about that time - I believe it's the only multi-syllabic word she uses in the film. Otherwise she might have better stayed home and mailed her part in. Lopez plays a passably attractive young woman ("Charlie")who works several jobs, but otherwise has no redeeming characteristics or any depth - at least none we are shown. For the working poor, she is remarkably able to rent comfortable and spacious quarters.
Fonda overacts, Lopez barely underacts (repeating her role as a cute meat puppet in The Wedding Planner), both within limited ranges of emotion. I wanted to see the film for Fonda, because I once had respect for her abilities. Obviously she's forgotten where she left them. She has one speed in this film: strident.
Between these two women is Michael Vartan, playing Viola's son ("Keith"), a succcessful, well-to-do doctor who, of course, falls for Charlie after they first make eye contact, although nothing in the film explains why - aside from physical attraction - they are a match. He has a little to do in the film aside from act the romantic stud who hangs around Charlie, but most of the time his role could have been played by a cardboard cut-out. He's supposedly a doctor - but of what? Where? Who are his colleagues?
Keith and Charlie have a sort-of relationship that's not delved into, just portrayed through a series of sappy interludes and professions of eternal sweetness. They don't fight like real people, have bad hair moments, or even have sex. Not that you'd expect skin in a flick like this, but you never get the feeling these two even touch each other intimately, let alone play hide-the-salami. There's no romance, no spark between them.
Viola, who smothers her son in a way better saved for Greek tragedies, wants her son to marry a blonde fluffette who appears maybe twice in the film, so we're not sure why, aside from having a perky nose. Viola has the arrogance of the rich, so she tries to use it to drive Charlie away, but the plucky girl stays with her man (ah, for a Dolly Parton song at this moment...). But Charlie's made of sterner stuff. What stuff, we never find out, since we never get any insight into what's under that semi-cute exterior.
None of these characters aside from Viola has any past (let alone depth), and even Viola's is only marginally hinted at, with a single introductory scene. She's supposedly a TV interviewer up there with Barbara Walters, but the impression of her past is so quickly glossed over, we have no feeling fer her as more than the on-screen harridan she presents.
So we have a cast of two-dimensional characters who engage in a lot of actions and reactions without explanations as to their reason or rhyme. And in between they utter sound bytes instead of dialogue.
Everything moves stodgily forward towards the inevitable cat-fight-redemption ending. There are no surpises, no twists, turns or even highlights.
Riches-and-rags stories are fluffy-cute. Thrown in the conniving mother-in-law who makes the heroine miserable almost ready to break, and then give the heroine a reversal to fight back. Yawn... the only reason I can figure out for including Fonda's vitriolic character is to keep the saccharine level low enough so viewers don't end up with diabetes.
It might have been saved somewhat by the presence of Wanda Sykes as Ruby, Viola's personal assistant, but she's not given enough screen time, and despite having the film's rare witty comments, she, too, is given no depth to work with.
Like the atrocious and insipid Meet the Fokkers, Monster-in-Law is about as entertaining as watching paint dry, and as a romantic comedy, is little less romantic than, say, Shaun of the Dead. On the good side, there are no memorable moments in this flick that will haunt your waking hours.
For some unknown reason, the DVD comes with a second disk of "special features" including thew obligatory director's commentary and deleted scenes. Unless one is an entirely besotted fan of either actress, I can't imagine who would waste even another five minutes watching this stuff. After all, how bad can these deleted scenes be if they weren't good enough to remain in a terminally dull movie like this?
Unless you have a need to punish yourself, or your life is so shallow you simply can't get enough of Jay-Lo, then give this one a wide berth. It joins Meet the Fokkers, AVP, and Sideways for the worst films of the year challenge.
