3.5 stars. Rating: PG, and needlessly, for mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.3.12
Few things are dependable in
Hollywood, but the movie adaptations of Jeff Kinney’s Wimpy Kid books are a welcome
exception.
Various filmmaking teams have
hewed closely to the all-essential tone established in Kinney’s books.
Additionally, the clever means of animating his books’ stick-figure artwork —
for title credits, and as transitional segments between live-action escapades —
further reassures fans that these characters are in good hands.
Indeed. They’re also in good
acting hands, and this continuity is just as pleasant. Although different cute
girls have wandered in and out of hapless Greg Heffley’s orbit — it’s a shame
Chloë Grace Moretz’s career took off, because it would have been nice to see
her character again — the rest of the cast members have been a refreshing
constant.
Best of all, director David
Bowers and the production team possess the wisdom to resist the numbnuts
slapstick that infects far too many so-called “family films” these days. To be
sure, Greg’s various misadventures are mildly exaggerated for comic effect, but
nothing here seems wholly inconceivable. And while some adults are held up for
ridicule, that’s mostly a function of the way kids view their parents, as
opposed to an indictment of anybody over the age of consent.
With school having let out for
the summer, Greg (Zachary Gordon) is looking forward to endless days parked in
front of the family TV set, playing his beloved video games. Alas, his parents
have other ideas; his father (Steve Zahn, as Frank), in particular, wants his
middle son to be more of an outdoor type, like the sports-minded boys who live
across the street.
This strikes Greg as the height
of absurdity, since he is — by his own admission — hardly anybody’s idea of
well-toned physicality. And, truthfully, Frank should know better; his fondness
for spending hours painting Civil War miniatures isn’t any different than
Greg’s devotion to video games. And if you think there’s a lesson to be learned
here, you’re correct.
Initially, though, Greg and his
father have nothing in common ... except their shared loathing of a sappy daily
newspaper comic strip called “Li’l Cutie” ... which seems a case of Kinney
making fun of his own artistic stylings.
While dodging his father’s
efforts to engage him in manly pursuits, Greg accepts an invitation to join
best friend Rowley (Robert Capron) at his parents’ country club. This oasis of
luxury — a universe removed from the horrors of the town’s public pool — comes
complete with side benefits such as bottomless smoothies served by polite
attendants, and the presence of adorable Holly Hills (Peyton List), still the
unattainable object of Greg’s desire.
Unfortunately, the country club’s
members also include the much-feared Patty Farrell (Laine MacNeil), who lives
to humiliate our poor young hero.
Greg’s older brother, Rodrick
(Devon Bostick), generally keeps to himself; this changes when he learns of
Greg’s sudden proximity to Holly ... because Rodrick has been trying to impress
her older sister, the hilariously stuck-up Heather (Melissa Roxburgh). Rodrick
still believes that the best way to a woman’s heart is through music, and thus
constantly seeks a means of exposing Heather to his ghastly garage band, Loded
Diper.
Greg’s sidebar excursions and
setbacks include a weekend stay at a cabin, with Rowley’s sickeningly sweet
parents; the addition of a large, slobbery dog — dubbed Sweetie — to the
Heffley household; and Frank’s various methods of trying to bond with Greg,
which include a camping trip and an internship at his office. Greg escapes the
latter only by claiming to have secured a job at the country club: a lie that’s
bound to be detected eventually, and he knows it.
At which point, Greg fears, his
parents may give up on him completely, and ship him off to a nearby private
academy for recalcitrant boys. And nothing would be worse than that.
Gordon continues to be just right
as Greg: somewhat dweebish, always testing boundaries and seeking shortcuts —
like any kid — and mischievous to a degree that stops short of anything truly harmful.
His Walter Mitty-esque daydreams — so hilariously depicted in Kinney’s books —
aren’t as prevalent this time out, but that’s all right; Greg finds plenty of
real-world ways to be his own worst enemy.
Zahn once again displays his
talent for befuddled slow takes and hilariously frozen stares, the latter put
to good use each time Frank gets in trouble with his wife, Susan (Rachael
Harris). It could be argued, however, that Sweetie’s presence skews this film’s
tone in the wrong direction; Frank becomes a buffoon whenever the dog is
around, and at least one sight gag is swiped from the Bumpus hounds in A
Christmas Story.
Bostick, as always, is just right
as the obnoxious, spelling-challenged older brother who believes black eyeliner
to be the height of rock ’n’ roll fashion. Younger brother Manny, still played
by twins Connor and Owen Fielding, exists mostly for some gross sight gags ...
such as the little guy’s notion of soap.
Capron is marvelous as the meek,
fearful Rowley: the stereotypical sheltered kid whose parents have done him no
favors by “protecting” him from the horrors of the real world ... such as a
hair-raising carnival ride called the Cranium Shaker. At the same time, Rowley
possesses core values of integrity that are somewhat lacking in Greg’s
character, and the wide-eyed Capron lands more than a few perceptive remarks.
That’s the major thrust of these
stories, of course: Everybody in Greg’s world — whether his parents, best
friend or even older brother — serves as a collective, de facto conscience.
Gentle lessons are learned, although scripters Maya Forbes (The Larry Sanders
Show) and Wally Wolodarsky (The Simpsons) take pains to avoid sounding
preachy.
Grayson Russell returns as the
gross and socially unacceptable Fregley, and diminutive Karan Brar makes the
most of his brief scenes as the amusingly solemn, wise-cracking Chirag. Watch
closely, and you’ll spot Kinney during a crowd scene at Heather’s “Sweet 16”
party.
Were it possible to freeze the
natural order of things, I could see this series running for years to come;
Kinney’s books certainly have imagination and hilarious plot antics to spare.
After all, way back in the day, Mickey Rooney starred as “typical American
teen” Andy Hardy in 15 films made between 1937 and ’46, with a 16th reunion
made in ’58. But Hollywood churned out B-films much faster then; Rooney made
seven (!) Andy Hardy films in 1938 and ’39 alone.
Sadly, Gordon already is maturing
beyond his somewhat undernourished stature as a “wimpy kid,” and his voice has
deepened a bit. Kinney’s seven books remain fixed in their middle school
setting, which Gordon is outgrowing; I’d hate to see the franchise disrupted by
casting changes, but I’d also hate to see Gordon playing an adolescent when
he’s old enough to drive.
Frankly, 20th Century Fox needs
to gamble aggressively and rush three more films through back-to-back
production during the next 12 months, in order to keep the cast intact, and so
we can enjoy Greg Heffley’s antics for the next several years. I look forward
to each new installment, and I don’t want anything to disrupt the group
dynamic.
Wimpy Kid still rules.
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