Hot Chick

Jessica Spencer (Rachel McAdams) is a stuck-up, self-absorbed, cruel little harpie who strings along and breaks the hearts of boys and girls alike (in different ways). She’s exactly the type of girl that makes you think “Boy I hope she wakes up one morning to find that she’s traded bodies with Rob Schneider, and is destined to be chased from her home by her family, maced by her best friend, forced into a fist fight, watch her boyfriend find someone else, and scratch out a living cleaning toilets and mowing yards!” And, just as you’d expect, that’s exactly what happens. Via a ridiculous plot device that I won’t even bother with, Jessica and a male mugger (Schneider) wake up one morning on opposite sides of town, begin their morning urination ritual, and suddenly realize that something is very, very wrong. Hilarity ensues.

No, really, it does. The biggest surprise of The Hot Chick is that it is actually really good. Most of the credit for that has to go to Schneider, as he pulls off one of the toughest acting assignments I’ve ever seen with flying colors. I am not, generally a Schneider fan. I consider his acting sophomoric and distasteful. But it seems he was born to play a teenage girl. No, I mean that as a compliment. Watching Schneider prance, preen, giggle and bat eyes in this movie, you really do forget that he’s acting and he isn’t really a teen chick in the wrong body (at least I … assume he isn’t). I don’t know what Schneider does in his personal time, but he spends a lot of this movie hanging out (so to speak) in tight, pink T-shirts and tight panties, and pillow fighting with Jessica’s BFF’s until it seems almost natural.

Jessica’s best friend (Anna Faris) really wanted to see Jessica’s new … best friend.

Aside from Schneider’s antics, the story is built around Jessica’s quest to get her body back, with the help of a bunch of other girls, once she’s convinced them of her identity, as well as get her boyfriend back. Her boyfriend has been stolen by an equally stuck-up cheerleader from a rival school, and I have to say, there is something very satisfying about watching Schneider head-butt her. There’s something even more satisfying about seeing a rich daddy’s-girl, now stuck in a male body, trying to do manual labour. Probably the funniest scene in the movie is when Jessica (Schneider) enters a men’s room, and finds all the stalls occupied, and has no choice but to use the urinal. She then begins asking other men how to pee standing. (Side note: it’s not like it’s that hard.)

There are a few holes in the plot. It’s interesting that nobody seems to notice Jessica’s missing for a week. Also, her boyfriend, Billy, goes on his own internal journey. This ads some human interest to the plot, but they could have had him turn into a decent guy without having him turn into a total man-gina. All in all though, this is a movie well worth seeing.


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Grown Ups

I wonder at what age Adam Sandler will stop playing the same character we’ve seen for the last fifteen years.  While I’m not an anti-Sandler, I simply feel this disconnect with him these days, as if somehow his formula train has passed within the last few years and nobody told him.  Yet, Grown Ups proved to be one of his biggest box-office performers, which is shocking considering it’s his laziest film in a long time.  At 44 years old, the man knows his fan base, and they continue to support him making junk like this.  But watch them turn and abandon him when he dares to act in more ambitious projects that may not totally work (Spanglish, Funny People), but showcase him stepping out of his bubble.

Grown Ups could be the worst film of Sandler’s career.  The pitch is to throw a group of has-been comedians past their prime in a single frame to see what sticks.  In this experiment we have Sandler, Chris Rock, David Spade, Rob Schneider, and Kevin James.  If three of these five can’t sell tickets on their own, let’s throw all of them together.  The studio made a smart move, as the writers need not provide any material, only to watch the dollars pour in.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve hated some of Sandler’s other efforts more than this (I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, You Don’t Mess with the Zohan), but Grown Ups surely tested my endurance for quick-buck filmmaking with a Couples Retreat or Ocean’s Twelve approach of throwing a group of name-actors together and producing a film about them simply hanging out.

In Grown Ups, Sandler has the lead role, the wealthiest and most successful of the bunch, married to a Latin fashion designer played by Salma Hayek.  This of course fits in with all of Sandler’s other films—as his scuzzy, sarcastic and self-absorbed characters have a tag-along wife suited for a Miss America contest.  He’s been significant other to (on film) the likes of Kate Beckinsale, Marisa Tomei, Courteney Cox-Arquette, Drew Barrymore, Winona Ryder, and Bridgette Wilson among others.  And also in all or at least most of these films, the writing must address why this gorgeous woman would be attracted to Sandler’s character.  I’ve always found this footnote of Sandler’s work to be more entertaining than the work itself.

Nonetheless, I need to return to the plot.  Sandler and his family of luxury head off to the funeral of an elementary school basketball coach from Sandler’s youth.  Back in good ol’ 1978, this coach led Sandler, James, Rock, Schneider and Spade to a major championship victory game (a game won on a bad call by the ref).  All the boys reunite for this event.  Sandler delivers a eulogy (as if this coach has zero family present whatsoever), while Schneider performs an outlandish opera piece that is inevitably mocked by his buddy listeners.

Following the funeral, the boys and their families head off to a cabin for the weekend.  Sandler thinks his two snotty brat sons could use some time away from maid-service and M-rated videogames.  Kevin James and his wife, played by Maria Bello (has she really been reduced to this?), are having intimacy problems.  She also still breast-feeds her ’48-month-old’ son.  Chris Rock is husband to his working wife, while he stays home to cook and manage the house.  He also puts up with his live-in mother-in-law who believes him to be wasted space.  Rob Schneider wears a ridiculous hair-piece and makes out with his wife in public (she also happens to be in her 70’s).  That leaves us with David Spade, a loner womanizer who becomes entranced by 2 of Schneider’s 3 daughters that join the group at the cabin (supermodel-looking 20-year-olds, mind you).

The quirks of each character as described above spell out the ongoing ‘jokes’ that proceed through 105 minutes of spellbinding stupidity.  Bello breast feeds her 4-year-old while the guys look on in amazement.  The old mother-in-law displays a nasty bunyon on her foot.  Schneider gets frisky with his old lady in-camera.  James takes and makes cracks about his weight.  Spade lays around naked.  Rock takes condescending insults from his wife.  The five middle-aged guys urinate in a public pool that turns the water navy blue.  And throughout most of the film, the five main actors dish out sarcasm to each other, as if someone forgot to bring the script to the set that day.  All of this adds up to these people learning a lesson about making time for and respecting one another.  How cute.

If I experienced one or two chuckles in this thing, they really have to be considered negligable in regard to the film’s complete laziness.  I will openly warrant several Sandler vehicles a pass, including: 50 First Dates, Anger Management, The Longest Yard, Click, The Wedding Singer, Big Daddy and probably more.  He’s a comic in his own league refusing to grow up.  That’s all fine and good, but don’t try to sell me a complete waste of time like Grown Ups.

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