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Comedy, like the sex offender registry, tends to be a male domain. Funny chicks are seen as the exception to the rule. If you believe poo poo-faced provocateur Chris Hitchens, women don't have the biological imperative to develop a sense of humour, and are thus better adapted to roles as spectators, occasionally shaking their heads or taking off their tops. Movies--particularly those in Adam Sandler's never-ending Angry Retard series--tend to ignore women altogether. The reason is that Sandler and his ilk had their puny dicks trod upon by silettoes all through their formulative years, and have fostered a fear and hatred of women ever since. But Sandler deserves some credit for producing The House Bunny, an imperfect comedy with some good gags, a few bad stretches, and a sixth grade morality. Shelley (Anna Faris) is a playmate living in the mansion with Hugh Hefner, his flaccid penis, and about two tons of military grade silicone. She's living the precious life of a pin-up model until her 27th birthday--when she's out on her rear end. She thinks the dessicated Hef has cast her out, but it's actually a plot by one of the other models--but never mind, because the resolution is dumber than Dalmation poo poo. With nowhere to go, Shelly shacks up with the nerdiest sorority on campus, and I'm sure you can predict where the story is going from there. Writers Karen McCullah Lutz & Kirsten Smith don't get points for originality, but the plot in a comedy is just a corkboard to pin jokes on--and in that sense they succeed, some of the time. A lot of the humour in this--as with it's spiritual cousin I Love You Man--stems from the re-enacting of cliched themes with the genders reversed. While I Love You Man does the Rom-Com tropes with two straight men, The House Bunny does the Frat vs. Evil Dean thing with all chicks. It's familiar, but different. Faris is good, and mostly redeems herself for the Scary Movie franchise; however, the real star is Emma Stone. She's pretty drat funny in her role as an awkward virgin with a child-like naivety. There are some really funny gags too, like a girl who bites a fratboy's arm as a come-on, or a re-enactment of the Seven Year Itch thing where the girl gets scalded by steam. A few jokes fall flat, or are repeated too often. A romantic subplot involving Colin Hanks is as moribund as my dream of starring in porno. Also, the movie conflates "being sexy" with "being yourself," and propagates the social mores of the Coors Light ad campaign. Also, the plot revolves around the Playboy empire but there's not a titty or landing strip is to be seen. The makers obviously pussied out to slip by with a PG. Memo to the writers of Hollywood: the perfect pap smear joke has yet to be told. The House Bunny shows we're making progress towards that end. Three.
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Sep 9, 2010 18:02
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| # ? Apr 19, 2024 01:01 |
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